Михайловский Владимир Владимирович : другие произведения.

Captain Lion And The Barefoot Girls

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  • Аннотация:
    Captain Lion defeated Morgan, but the most famous pirate managed to escape. And the next plan is to capture Jamaica. But for now, Pavel Ivanovich Rybachenko has some very exciting adventures ahead with beautiful and barefoot girls.
  CAPTAIN LION AND THE BAREFOOT GIRLS
  ANNOTATION
  Captain Lion defeated Morgan, but the most famous pirate managed to escape. And the next plan is to capture Jamaica. But for now, Pavel Ivanovich Rybachenko has some very exciting adventures ahead with beautiful and barefoot girls.
  . CHAPTER No 1.
  Morgan's flagship cruiser was completely captured and searched. But the main pirate himself was not found. Almost all the ships of the English filibuster squadron were sunk. And Morgan's horns were broken, even if he managed to escape.
  The pirate girls uncorked the barrels of rum and threw a huge feast.
  They were almost naked, jumping up and down, kicking their bare, tanned, muscular legs.
  Pavel Ivanovich Rybachenko clearly drank too much and it was as if a blow had hit him on the head and he passed out and began to dream:
  In May 1999, Zyuganov decided not to approve Stepashin's candidacy, but to go to early elections to the Duma. The Communists and their allies made a consolidated decision to vote against Stepashin. Moreover, they were offended and deprived of their posts in the government. Such a decision would have been the most likely in history, if Zyuganov had not been a Trojan horse in the Communist camp, who undermined and compromised leftist ideas.
  Early parliamentary elections promised the communists many benefits, including due to the smaller number of competitors and the image of martyrs.
  And this showed that the communists are not clinging to their seats at all, but are more principled.
  The second time Yeltsin again introduced Stepashin, and then took Aksenenko for the third time. The Duma did not approve it again, and it was dissolved. New elections were scheduled for September.
  The stubbornness of the parliament somewhat changed the course of history. The bombing of Yugoslavia lasted longer - because Milosevic hoped for help from Russia. And the dissolution of the parliament gave the opposition a chance to win.
  The communists managed to put Yeltsin's impeachment to a vote again.
  And again he was just a little short, this time by only two votes. The deputies were worried about the proximity of parliamentary elections and the danger of not getting through.
  The Duma was dissolved, and Yeltsin appointed the little-known Aksenenko as Prime Minister by decree.
  In general, Zyuganov's hopes that the elections would take place were justified. The ill and weakened president did not go against the constitution. And he did not risk exceeding his powers, having a two percent rating. Primakov, seeing that his coalition did not have time to form and register, went for an alliance with the communists. "Yabloko" and the LDPR went to the elections. The "Unity" bloc did not have time to form, and the NDR weakened.
  There is also the invasion of militants into Dagestan and the indecisiveness of security forces during the elections.
  The Communists, together with Primakov and Luzhkov, achieved a colossal victory. They collected more than fifty-five percent of the votes. The Yabloko bloc was second, also performing well, taking fifteen percent. Unexpectedly, the LDPR also performed well, collecting more than twelve percent. The NDR did not take the five percent barrier - a complete rout! Zhirinovsky became the only pro-Kremlin leader in the Duma. True, the competition was weak. According to the new law, parties must re-register no later than a year before the elections, and many did not have time.
  The parliament was again dominated by the left opposition, both Yabloko and its single-mandate candidates, and the LDPR in the minority.
  And of course a conflict arose... Immediately after the election of the State Duma speaker, a vote of no confidence in the government was passed. And again there was talk of impeachment. This time, it would have been easy to gather two thirds!
  After some hesitation, Yeltsin decided to return Primakov to the prime minister's seat, and Maslyukov to the first deputy prime minister's.
  The left coalition agreed to this, but the president's powers were temporarily curtailed. And there was almost nothing left until new elections. After negotiations within the coalition, it was decided to nominate Primakov for president. Luzhkov became prime minister. And Zyuganov received the post of head of the legislative branch! That is, Superskipper! Amendments to the constitution were even supposed to be adopted regarding the new one.
  The militants were driven out of Dagestan. But they did not go to Chechnya. A civil war broke out there. Russia supported Maskhadov and Kadyrov, against Basayev and Raduyev.
  Primakov managed to win the Russian presidential elections in the first round. The government, however, received additional powers. As did the legislative branch, which is under the control of the communists.
  In Russia, the economic recovery continued, oil and gas prices rose, and industry was revived.
  The Americans, in general, as in reality, after the terrorist attack of September 11 got into Afghanistan and got bogged down in Iraq. Primakov was easily elected for a second term. But in 2008 he gave up his seat to the very successful Prime Minister Yuri Luzhkov.
  The new president continued the previous policy of alliance with the communists. Zyuganov became prime minister.
  For some time, there was a partnership with the West and friendship with China in foreign policy. In Ukraine, the Yanukovych regime strengthened. Thus, Luzhkov, unlike Putin, pursued a more pro-Ukrainian policy and valued the union of Slavic states. Ukraine even joined the Eurasian Union in 2016. Luzhkov served two terms and resigned. Zyuganov finally became president, also winning the elections quite easily. Zhirinovsky participated for the seventh time, in all since 1991, and lost again.
  In the fall of 2015, Russia got involved in the war in Syria and bombed there. Trump came to power in the US. Zyuganov, despite formal communism, continued the previous course in the economy. Russia, despite the formal dominance of the Communist Party of the Russian Federation, remained a market, democratic and moderately authoritarian country.
  With the West, there is partnership and moderate competition. With Ukraine and Belarus, and Kazakhstan, there is an alliance, but also not too close. In 2020, Zyuganov was elected for a second term. In general, having slightly lowered the result on the verge of the second round. And in Ukraine, after Yanukovych left, the non-systemic Zelensky unexpectedly won. Nazarbayev also left.
  Zyuganov announced that he will not change the constitution and will leave after his second term.
  Thus, the leader of the Communist Party of the Russian Federation still managed to rule Russia, showing a little more courage. And the world turned out to be safer and calmer than in reality.
  And who is Putin? How did his career develop? After Primakov became prime minister, Putin was dismissed as too close to Yeltsin. In particular, he was accused of the FSB having missed the militants' invasion of Dagestan. Putin continued to dabble in politics for some time. He ran unsuccessfully for the State Duma. Then for mayor of St. Petersburg.
  But then he left politics and got a job in the security service of a private company. So few people remembered him anymore.
  Zhirinovsky in 2020, for the eighth time, ran for president and lost again with a modest result. But he still has a faction in the State Duma. And even Zyuganov awarded him the rank of major general after the 2020 elections. Donald Trump unexpectedly lost the election to a young competitor from the Democrats. Merkel resigned early. And Lukashenko's health has deteriorated sharply.
  In 2021, Russian cosmonauts finally flew to the Moon. And they planted a red flag there! Zyuganov declared Afonin his official successor. Well, life has come full circle once again.
  As we can see, even without Putin, the collapse of Russia did not happen. And the world did not turn upside down.
  Oleg Rybachenko was half asleep... And his head was jumping and jumping. As if horses were rushing by. And the cold in the cell was terrible, no matter how you look at it. When you wait for this hell to end sooner.
  And again thoughts on the verge of sleep and vision.
  In the desert there is no rumble, only sounds of varying volume...
  The He-123 flies almost silently towards its targets....
  One of them even dropped a bouquet of paper flowers.
  Shella (she stuck her head out of the turret and rode openly, otherwise being in the hot tank would have been torture) answered with surprise:
  - Wow, and these old people are here?
  Margot, pointing her finger to the sky, replied:
  - You know biplanes, with two parallel wings they create more aerodynamic drag, but they hover better and have a lower speed when diving. That is, as an attack aircraft, if there are no fighters nearby, they are quite effective. Well, and after the defeat of Malta and a series of our strikes, the British have nothing to cover the skies over Egypt with. So the decision to use the He-123, the last aircraft of biplane design, must be called rational and generally pragmatic. - The red-haired woman could not resist a compliment. - Really speaks of the genius of this Fuhrer!
  Shella jumped high into the air, caught the paper bouquet and happily remarked:
  - Wow! Everything for the front, everything for victory!
  Filela seemed to have just woken up, yawned. In a deliberately languid tone she noted:
  - But it's so hot in the tank, its ventilation barely works. The Americans didn't keep an eye on something.
  Margot said judiciously:
  - Our tanks don't have everything planned out either, - she added with great annoyance, grimacing, kicking her bare heel against the slightly tarnished brick-colored armor.
  - The Cromwells and Matildas still have ventilation, although not all of them, but this tank is clearly not adapted to the desert. It's also surprising that its engines didn't jam.
  Filela snorted contemptuously:
  - The US has the oldest school of automobile engineering. And of course the engines themselves are not bad, only there are five of them, not one.
  - But this increases the tank's survivability in battle! - Shella noted. - Although it may make the tank itself more difficult to assemble.
  Filela, wanting to show her erudition, added:
  - But it's also more difficult to repair. Although you can drive with one or two breakdowns.
  Margot noticed a plane in the distance above the line, an elegant one at that, and whistled:
  - What kind of miracle is this?
  Shella narrowed her eyes and said:
  - Spitfires, flying from east to west, three of them... Maybe they're even ours.
  Margot disagreed:
  - They could be ours, but... You can recognize an English pilot by the way he flies his plane. Look closely. It's a typical British style! So...
  Shella lovingly touched the massive machine gun. She stroked the thick machine gun belts and said with joy:
  - This is an assault caliber 13.7. We can try to shoot it down!
  Filela objected:
  - Why should you shoot? I have more experience!
  Margot growled back in the most ferocious manner:
  - Let Shella shoot better! He shoots down with the first shot and without any experience.
  The blonde terminator threw back her hair and kissed the machine gun:
  - Cutie, don't let me down, please! Hit me!
  The machine gun fires... And despite the high altitude, the Spitfire bursts into flames, Shella continues to fire, the second one burns, and the third one explodes. Bang, and a fiery ball flashes in the sky, or rather a small ball at that distance.
  Margot whistled:
  - Masterfully! How did you do it?
  Shella replied modestly:
  - The Spitfire is a fighter, not an attack aircraft, it has weak protection from below. If you hit it right, the machine gun will pierce the gas tank.
  Filela added:
  - By the way, this model's engine is too flammable, fire-hazardous. It's not hard to set it on fire! So the main thing is to hit the fuselage with its weak belly. No miracle, just math and calculation!
  Margot, despite this, added:
  - Shella is still a good girl.
  Commander Gayla's angry voice came over the radio:
  - How dare you shoot without command! It's good that there really were Englishmen sitting there. And what if they were ours on captured planes, or even more so wolf girls. You saw how part of my company sat on captured winged horses!
  Shella, half-jokingly, but there is always some truth in every joke, answered:
  - I always feel our guys with my heart! And whoever is a stranger is not mine!
  Margot added, especially in a deep, bold tone:
  - And how many could these three of our guys have shot down? Have you thought about that?
  Captain Gayla replied angrily:
  - When there is a pause in the battles, you will answer for your insolence! But for now, fight if you can! And I see that you can!
  The landscape around was not very diverse, desert, dunes, a couple of already abandoned checkpoints. There was also an Arab village. There was an English truck there, four motorcycles with a sidecar. These were finished off in five seconds, you can't even call it a skirmish, just a massacre.
  Only closer to the outskirts of Port Said did they finally come across a checkpoint that had not yet been abandoned and even the semblance of two pillboxes. One of them seemed to be even made of marble and had five cannons.
  Margot licked her scarlet lips predatorily:
  - Now, finally, we have some serious work! Otherwise, we're just picking cherries! This isn't a war, but a carnival - I hope the devil doesn't tear it apart!
  Shella joked kindly:
  - And he usually vomits either from happiness or from moonshine!
  Margot remarked sarcastically, like a female ferret:
  - And some moonshine to get going, then some wine to finish!
  However, even here the battle was short, one salvo was enough to disable the guns, and the machine guns mowed down three hundred infantry. Only one Englishman managed to throw a grenade. The shrapnel hit the Cromwell's armor, and one ripped the black man's pants, tearing off his dignity. The wolf girls laughed together, and Margo joked:
  - This is how we fulfill our selection function!
  Filela added:
  - Castrating the inferior!
  Only Shelley felt sorry for the soldier. And in general for these guys who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Here is a pillbox, when shells hit it, it warped like an old shoe drying. The walls split into wide cracks, which you want to grab onto and drown in. And this is terrible. Or the grimaces of the dead guys, mostly young, even if they are mostly colored. This was the result of a war started by God knows who. Although, yes, Britain declared war on Germany first and will pay for it. But only pawns are dying, and Churchill, most likely, will have time to escape on a boat somewhere into the jungle or the USA. And mothers will cry over their sons. However, maybe the time will come when people not only will not kill each other, but will overcome old age, and ...
  Shella asked Margot:
  - But we are smart, we have read a lot of science fiction. Answer, how can the power of science be used to resurrect the dead?
  The red-haired devil quipped sarcastically:
  - And you don"t believe in the resurrection of Christ, who will come and resurrect all the dead?
  The blonde wolf-tigress was immediately found:
  - Most of the prophecies in the Bible are pure allegory. That is why they say that Christ will resurrect, but in reality people will resurrect their brothers and ancestors through reason, through Jesus. And what did the apostles say - the Holy Spirit preaches, in reality it is implied that people moved by the Holy Spirit preach!
  Filela giggled:
  - What? It's logical! It can be interpreted that way!
  Margot yawned demonstratively:
  - So what are we going to discuss about fairy tales? There's a new fight coming soon...
  Shella pretended to be surprised:
  - Don't you want to know what awaits you after death? Or are you content with dull non-existence?
  The fire warrior perked up:
  - And since you put the question that way, then yes, life after death is also very interesting to me. We can certainly talk about it, although...
  Filela suddenly interrupted:
  - What do you mean! The topic is most interesting. - The blonde with a larger frame than her partner added. Or rather, she changed the subject. - For example, many, including brave Wehrmacht officers, believed that by starting a war with the Allies, the Fuhrer had started a hopeless cause. The enemy has a powerful line of defense, numerous colonies and resources. And we do not have many of the raw materials that are so necessary for the war. And the enemy, having become fat and united, has much more equipment on the backs of the Negroes than we do!
  Shella quickly added:
  - Yes, I saw with my own eyes that the German women were crying with grief when they learned that Britain had declared war on us. It was, how can I say...
  Margo, with a mocking grin, suggested:
  - Something like a quiet panic!
  Shella nodded her head happily:
  - That's exactly it, just like that!
  Filela continued, smiling slyly:
  - So why shouldn"t we assume that if our great nation, led by the greatest genius of all times and peoples, was able to create what seemed impossible, then science will also be able to reach the heights!
  Margot screamed at the top of her lungs:
  - Yes, that's a brilliant suggestion! Well, I have some ideas on that matter!
  Filela pretended to be surprised:
  - Is it really true? And I'm so naive, you see, I didn't know!
  Margot, ignoring this jab, began to explain:
  - Firstly, it is quite possible, as many science fiction writers have described, starting with Mark Twain, and even earlier, time travel. In this case, you can take a person from the past at the moment he dies and take him to the future.
  Shella sighed heavily:
  - It sounds nice, but if they don"t find a body, it will raise big, no, huge suspicions, especially if it"s done on a mass scale.
  Margot shook her head:
  - No, in this case, everything can be done very cleanly, namely, to leave a biomodel instead of a killed person or even one who died of old age or illness. After all, reproducing a physical copy of a person is entirely within the power of science of the future, and I believe not too distant!
  Filela exclaimed happily:
  - What? It's logical! All my dead friends didn't actually die, but at the moment of death they were transferred to the future. And now they enjoy the world, or rather the universe, where the Third Reich is a mega-universal empire!
  Margot grimaced deliberately:
  - Well, well! Do you think it's possible to transfer a living person, at the moment of death, so unnoticed by those around him?
  - And why not! - Shella exclaimed. - After all, the art of camouflage exists. And in the distant future, it will be brought to perfection. So, unnoticeable movements in space are entirely possible!
  Filela even added:
  - And to suggest otherwise was simply a complete lack of dialectical thinking. That is, only a rotten conservative could think otherwise!
  Shella did not calm down:
  - And what if he is a person and died from illness or old age?
  Margot put her finger to her lips and whispered slyly:
  - No! That's the whole point, he didn't die! No one, at least not any decent person, dies for a moment. We true Aryans are essentially immortal and live even in the event of death. Which essentially doesn't exist! Well, and to rejuvenate or cure any, even the most hopeless disease for the science of the future, especially Aryan science, is a piece of cake, an elementary matter! That is, no one will ever see death!
  Shella giggled nervously:
  - Well, yes, and our bodies won"t even be made of protein!
  Margot, with the eagerness of an academic, confirmed:
  - Of course, not protein! After all, protein is the most unstable element in nature. Why should a perfect Aryan consist of protein?
  Shella smirked mockingly:
  - And what should a true Aryan consist of, if not protein? Maybe steel, there is nothing better than titanium, but it is unclear how to bend the limbs in this case.
  Filela suggested:
  - Maybe it will be liquid titanium, or some kind of liquid crystal structure?
  Margot shook her head vigorously:
  - No! I think it will be different. Do you know what plasma is?
  Filela, getting ahead of Shella, almost shouted:
  - Yes, plasma comes in different forms; there is blood plasma, and there is the plasma that forms inside stars as a result of a thermonuclear reaction.
  Margot's face took on the look of a know-it-all:
  - Well, there you go! Now imagine superplasma, or more precisely a substance for which I came up with an original name: princeps-plasma! And with its help you can acquire such wonderful properties of the body... Not even fabulous, but hyper-fabulous!
  Shella asked again:
  - Why is the name princeps-plasma?
  Margot readily explained:
  - That's why princeps in Latin means primacy or chief! There was even a concept of principate. And such a substance is capable of such things... For example, changing sizes, and extracting more energy from one atom than a thousand metagalaxies with all the stars and planets. Or even cooler...
  The reasoning, which was quite interesting, was interrupted by Gayla"s menacing cry:
  - There are enemies ahead! Now there will be a real fight!
  The girls, carried away by the conversation that was mind-blowing to any imagination, did not notice how they found themselves in Port Said, at that time the largest city in Egypt and its stronghold (Cairo was still in the background!). The city itself, with an abundance of ancient buildings and monuments of all kinds, some of which were so frank that you wonder how the puritanically educated Arabs did not destroy them, was amazing. But this time the girls had no time for admiration. And in front of them were indeed enemies, and in large numbers. Equipment of all kinds, tanks, self-propelled guns, trucks, an abundance of infantry. But it was obvious that the British and their numerous colonial troops were scared. It was simply panic. In places in the city fires were already blazing and charred and bullet-riddled corpses were lying around. It was obvious that the oatmeal lovers were ready to run away to the Moon to get rid of the most severe pressure from the German troops. But the enemy was already nearby, in particular the attack aircraft, Ju-87 and He-123, bombers Ju-88, and Do-217 were hammering away without stopping. And with amazing accuracy, not wanting to miss. The English planes were not even visible.
  Thousands of English soldiers and hundreds of trucks, dozens of tanks resembled a rabble, or a frightened gypsy camp pursued by merciless inquisitors. Although the "gypsies" somehow have too much metal. But the fuss and squealing are beyond measure.
  Gayla ordered:
  - Even closer! We'll hit point-blank. First of all, we need to take out the tanks, they're the only ones who can still scratch. Machine guns will do for the infantry and trucks!
  Shella suddenly felt her heart beating fast. The moment of the great harvest was approaching, when, finally...
  - Fire! - Commander Gale roars (what a bad habit, to yell like that, a skilled commander needs to train his subordinates to obey without shouting).
  It"s impossible to miss from a short distance, the salvo thunders, the rear and front armor of the English tanks bursts like oil bubbles!
  Margot screams:
  - That's how we gave it to them!
  And so it began... The English and their mercenaries were in a state of genuine panic, in its wildest form. Some of the soldiers ran away, and many even opened fire indiscriminately, hitting each other! One of the blacks began waving his broadsword, cutting up his closest comrades. And then, in ecstasy, he slashed, hitting himself in the leg! Now that was truly a horror story. Brrr... Some of the recently brave and tough British fighters began bleeding from the mouths of fear, even without being hit by the Germans.
  Well, the girls, of course, did not waste time. They fired furiously, literally pouring lead over everything. Shella fired from two machine guns at once and saw how the mown ranks fell under her blows. And the comparison with the blows of a sickle is too weak, here, taking into account the aggressive work of the other girls, there was the work of a thousand forage harvesters. If anyone wanted to establish even the most basic order here, they could not! They simply could not, so such a thing was impossible in such chaos! And the girls smashed, releasing shells at the highest possible speed, they fed and passed them quickly, so contrary to the absurd opinion about the effeminacy of blondes, they turned out to be accustomed to everything. And then from above again "Stukas" (derogatorily nicknamed on the Soviet front by the bast shoes wearers Ju-87). And also the deafening howl of sirens, and Wagner's music. All this makes an impression on the oatmen and their lackeys. And the terminator girls can only shoot and destroy as quickly as possible. Gather the harvest and try not to be late to rip the sweets from the table. When they shoot from tanks, fragmentation shells, it is impressive. But when large-caliber machine guns pound, tearing soldiers to pieces, it hits the brain doubly.
  Here, too, numerous, but small-sized bombs are falling from above. In the USSR, they were called "Christmas eggs." They proved to be very effective in attacks on airfields, damaging many planes at once and covering them with a shroud of annihilation.
  But in this world, war with the USSR could not be avoided, just as the beating could not be avoided, and England must now experience the devilish invention of German science. Experience the extremely harsh impact. In these conditions, it is no longer possible to surrender, but only to bend over. In the head of the witty Magda, like herds of horses, original thoughts;
  The idea in war is the aim, the implementation is the shot, the means are the projectile!
  Art asks for victims, military art extorts them!
  War is a still life that is unpleasant to draw, and doubly disgusting to admire!
  Death is like a cane for a blind man, it helps to feel the perspective, but hides the details!
  The plant withers without rain, so the thought fades without rebellious impulses!
  The immaculate world is like a vacuum, and even more so when it is empty!
  - Fantasy grows wings, doubt forges shackles!
  He who roars with a roar will throw down his shield in fear!
  A loud voice is a bluff - to be afraid of it is a sin!
  A world without fiction is like porridge without butter, only the requirement for freshness is even stricter!
  White hair is a symbol of purity, and bad thoughts are always dirty, a stupid head is covered in the ink of meanness!
  A slave is not one who wears iron chains, but one who has a wooden head!
  Religion is a black sun: from which reason withers, thoughts dry up, superstitions sprout!
  The coolness of a politician is like the steering wheel of an airplane, without the stopcock of indecision!
  Life is a chain, and little things are links in it - you can't ignore the importance of a link! But you can't dwell on little things - otherwise the chain will envelop you!
  An honest thief is better than a lying detective, a master key made of gold is more valuable than handcuffs made of shit!
  Indifference is not the best armor in terms of protective properties, but it is the most affordable to make!
  This is, of course, cool, even too cool, to exterminate everyone, and also to have such things running through your head, but it doesn"t interfere with killing enemies at all. And as the battle progressed, the leaps of aphorisms only accelerated;
  A sparrow can out-twitter an eagle, but is unable to peck a kite!
  Kindness is soft, but it binds the grains of personal interest better than any cement!
  Pain is the other side of pleasure, only with a much greater desire to turn to you!
  He whose spirit finds no peace, and whose character is tormented by cruel trials, torments his flesh!
  For the brave - a valiant death, for the coward - a strict escape, for those who do neither this nor that - a free ration in captivity
  Blood enemies differ from dynamite only in the absence of a detonator!
  Showing pity in war is like salting a cake, and mercy is like peppering a pastry!
  It"s not the mice that sing in the lyric hall that are scary, but those that squeak in your head!
  A person's personality is like a bottomless well, when it is at the center of power, it can suck in the entire country!
  War is a lottery, only the winnings are paid for with tears and blood, and are not transferred online!
  All countries are preparing for war, but no one can plan victory!
  Even in hell you need connections, but in heaven you need a roof!
  The underworld has its advantages, changing your place of residence is not scary!
  Weakness is the sister of betrayal, betrayal is the father of retribution!
  A lie is a thin rope that, depending on the sharpness of the mind, can pull you out of the abyss or tighten around your neck!
  The difference between deception and fabrication is only in the motive, and not always mercantile!
  In the underworld, you can be afraid of everything except exile!
  Everything is possible except the impossible, which is unimaginable!
  In the art of knowledge there are only two hopeless things: trying to explain human stupidity and understanding the logic of the Supreme God!
  The mind develops like muscles through training, only it doesn"t get stretched!
  The money is paper, but they impose an iron dictatorship!
  A polite tongue hides evil thoughts better than a sheep's skin hides fangs!
  No matter how soft the sheep's wool is, it cannot soften the sharpness of the wolf's fangs!
  Alcohol is the most accessible killer, but unfortunately it kills not only the customer!
  The brave man dies but once, but lives forever: the coward dies but once, but lives only once!
  The best way to drown out the voice of reason is the clanging of blades, especially if the reason is not egregious!
  You can't win without losing, but you can lose without winning!
  Defeat is a judge who rejects an appeal and does not allow the lawyer to speak!
  A blow to the air is often the most deadly, as it takes away oxygen and shakes the imagination!
  The pain of money is different in that when someone else has it, there is no desire to appropriate it, but when you have it, you refuse to share it!
  A good ruler does not make new enemies, just as a thrifty owner does not breed extra fleas!
  Beating bastards is like scoring a goal, only the judge-law calls a penalty in the wrong time!
  If you want to become God, don"t be a monkey in science, blindly imitating nature!
  The weakness of humanity is ignorance, strength is knowledge, power is the ability to think outside the box!
  A man always lies, even when he speaks the truth, because existence itself is a deception!
  Not everyone can be a leader, because leadership involves getting ahead of the worst!
  Technology during war is like a boy entering first grade - you need to grow and improve your knowledge!
  Everyone loses, only a few win, only human egoism is invincible, it disguises itself too cleverly as rationalism!
  It is better to bury to the sound of the Marseillaise than to live to the sound of a funeral march!
  A fox in a trap can only give up its skin, but a person in captivity can only give up skin and bones!
  Defeat is like a defective child, no one recognizes it as their own, but there is no escape from it!
  Idleness is the most dangerous form of betrayal; it does not require any diplomatic skill or financial expenditure from the enemy!
  A warrior is more important than a surgeon, he saves not the mortal body with a blade, but cuts off the physical shackles from the soul!
  By refusing a beggar you save your pocket, but rob your soul!
  The worst thing about war is that you will always be disappointed by its ending and tired by its course!
  Stupidity is the greatest vice, especially because powerful worlds encourage it!
  Fear is a little death - by conquering it we come closer to immortality!
  Military cunning is worth more than gold, but lighter than feathers, because the commander carries it in his head!
  When it comes to horses and slippers, their white color means complete incompatibility!
  Power, like a carnivorous shoot, grows only in the direction of death!
  Male beauty can be royal, but it is not crowning, and female beauty is only spoiled by a crown!
  The world is different from a chessboard in that no one plays by the rules, and similar in that we are all just pawns in it!
  You can scare Russians, but you can't make them afraid!
  To fear is harmful; to beware is necessary!
  Tales only exist in the crypt, but real discoveries do not allow civilization to be driven into the basement!
  The sun will sooner turn purple than a Russian will turn yellow from betrayal!
  It is a sin to steal, but to leave a beggar hungry and a rich man to go crazy with fat is even more sinful!
  Shella saw how the hellish haircut was taking place, how the ranks of people, crazed with fear, were lying under her blows like knocked down bowling pins. And Margo, shooting, turned the levers with her bare feet, pressing on them and forcing the tank to move and mercilessly crush this rabble. Bones crunched under the tracks, even intestines began to wind around the rollers. Here even the merciless Filela warned:
  - Don't crush them like that, the caterpillar will jam!
  Margot muttered back, quite a witty beauty:
  - Oh, come on, I'm being polite with them!
  Shella, in turn, suddenly felt, despite her role as a merciless executioner, such a spiritual uplift that she even began to sing;
  If your fist is strong,
  This means you will be the first in life!
  And then the comrade is not a poor man,
  He has a heart of gold and nerves of steel!
  
  But even more importantly, believe - this is a strong mind,
  Because man is tougher than animals.
  If in life you are a gloomy cloud,
  Then your cheerful laughter will make you loved!
  
  Machine additive know - strength to the fist,
  Because it is full of - knowledge and Know-How!
  But try to give power - into the hands of a fool,
  Then you will only receive pain as a reward!
  
  There was a time when people went hunting with clubs,
  A bow, a quiver with arrows against thick skin...
  But they made chervonets where groschen were used,
  And it"s already very easy to jump into the galaxy!
  
  Although education is good -
  But to add courage to intelligence is also interesting...
  And equal to the bayonet, it will become a chisel,
  And we serve our Motherland very honestly.
  
  But evil violence is a heavy cross,
  Our battlefield is flooded with blood...
  Why did the Almighty God rise from the dead after His torment?
  So that the military gathering of soldiers will be strengthened!
  
  The maiden's tears are dripping - her beloved friend has fallen,
  The mother prays with a groan, screaming at the top of her lungs...
  It's freezing outside the windows and the fire has gone out,
  Here is a handsome young man buried underground!
  
  Oh, fate, sorrow - what an evil fate,
  Virgin Mary - where is your good nature?
  The man wanted to become betrothed as soon as possible,
  And now the wind drives the ashes under the pines!
  
  Life will come happily - it will be good,
  Apple pie will become poppy seed honey...
  The fiendish enemy, into dust and powder,
  Let true luck cross the threshold!
  
  Everything is done on Earth and now it's time to move on to Mars,
  Let's gather garlands full of stars into our fists!
  And hello guys, just top notch,
  And what was thrown into the fire was a terrible ghoul!
  
  The machine gun has already become familiar - bullets are pouring out like a stream,
  And the enemy is exhausted, what he wanted is zero!
  Having won, you will become a rich man,
  The one who started the fire will end up in poverty!
  Shella sang and shot, beads of sweat dripped onto the machine gun's unglued iron, it seemed the girls had already exterminated more than one thousand. There had never been any sign of organized resistance, but now either flight or falling to their knees with the throwing out of the white flag had begun. Now detachments of paratroopers with swastika armbands had appeared from the sides. Margo exclaimed with ecstatic joy:
  - Our troops are in the city! Port Said is now mine!
  . CHAPTER #2.
  Oleg Rybachenko wrote very interestingly about girls. Fortunately, there is nothing else to do in the cell. But in reality, of course, it is a nightmare in prison, to sit like this. If only they would send you to some kind of work, and you want to eat. It is obvious that you are losing weight right before your eyes. This is hell, and you are in the skin of Edmond Dantes. Or even worse, in the south of France there are no such harsh winters as in St. Petersburg.
  Although on the other hand, Edmond Dantes suffered for fourteen years. And he probably won't be sitting for that long anyway. Sooner or later, they'll get him.
  It can't be that they will lock him up in prison forever.
  The boy sang:
  - I sit behind bars in a damp dungeon, fed in captivity, a young eagle!
  And he could hardly keep from crying. Yes, his situation was not at all enviable. Yes, its cold, which is impossible to get used to, eats away at. Such is life on the bunks. Oh, what is it like for boys like him, prisoners in Siberia? Probably a complete nightmare!
  Meanwhile, Rasputin dances at the ball and eats exquisite dishes and drinks select wines. Yes, he escaped death. And his guards have been strengthened by order of the Tsar. And while the conspirators are thinking about Rasputin, Nicholas II can sleep peacefully.
  The US is about to enter the war, and this should finally tip the scales in favor of the Entente. A tank designed by Mendeleyev's son is being prepared for serial production. Perhaps the best of all in the world. Airplane production is being increased. The state is ready to attack.
  And Rasputin drinks and gorges himself. And the holy old man enjoys life. Completely forgetting about the fate of the savior. However, what does he care about some boy. There are already plenty of things to do. And they need to be solved. In particular, it is time to form a new government. And here are their own levies.
  Grigori Rasputin has a mind of his own. One of his thoughts is where to put Kolchak. There are plans to land troops in Istanbul. And Grigori naturally has his own plans here too.
  Tsarist Russia plans to attack in the spring. Apparently, in the south, where the enemy is weaker and has already been beaten. But there are plans in the north as well.
  Rasputin drinks cognac and whistles into his nostrils. He is cheerful and contented. And money flows like a stream into his pockets, and his authority before the Tsar has been strengthened.
  And he still looks at women carnivorously. Putting them in bed one after another. That's the type saved by Oleg Rybachenko.
  Meanwhile, the boy himself is composing again.
  The exams at Moscow State University have been passed. Snezhana Koroleva, a charming natural blonde, took off her high-heeled shoes and ran barefoot along the warm asphalt.
  She was a simple village girl, and she loved to touch a hard surface with her bare sole. And she didn't care that people looked at her as if she was a little crazy, and at the same time admired her.
  Snezhana is very beautiful, her hair is slightly curly and slightly golden, and her face, on the contrary, is tanned, with a masculine chin and an expressive profile. Although she was born in the village, she has an extraordinary appearance, as if she really were a princess. She has many admirers, but Snezhana has a practical village mind.
  She wants to marry an oligarch! And she dreams about it. She is so young, gorgeous.
  It's just a pity that billionaires, even in Moscow, are not lying on the street. But Mishka tagged along with her. A nice young man, athletic, muscular. Girls are crazy about him. But he fell in love with her. Why does she need this beggar? Well, maybe not a beggar, but just an average guy.
  Mishka holds flowers in her hands: white roses. They smell so nice. And they go with her hair.
  The young man jumped up to her and, holding out the roses, purred:
  - My imagination was amazed,
  Your image appeared before me.
  You pierced me like lightning -
  With its unearthly beauty!
  Snezhana laughed and flicked the young man on the nose with her fingers:
  - Are you imitating Pushkin? But that's not the main thing!
  The young man asked in surprise:
  - What's the main thing?
  Snezhana answered with a laugh:
  - Money! That's the most important thing!
  Mishka answered with a sigh:
  - Well, I'll graduate from Moscow State University and open my own business. I'm already making good money, for example, I come up with scripts and games!
  The girl giggled and stamped her bare foot:
  - I know! You also write science fiction for magazines. But all this is such a trifle!
  The young man logically noted:
  - Why have too much money? We can go to Europe, and sometimes we can even go to a restaurant. We are young, healthy, beautiful - we will have wonderful children!
  Snezhana shook her head:
  - No! Beauty is a gift from the gods! And it must be used practically! I will only marry someone who has a fortune of at least a billion dollars!
  The young man asked quietly:
  - Without love?
  Snezhana said harshly:
  - Love does not exist! There is only the dirty lust of males and females!
  Mishka shook his head:
  - No! I love you, and only you! I can't live without you!
  The girl laughed and answered cheekily:
  - Earn a billion bucks, and then expect reciprocity, but otherwise... Flowers are okay, but I like scarlet, the color of blood, more!
  The young man sighed heavily and sang:
  - There is no such thing as fake love,
  The stars in the sky sparkle like rubies.
  Break the shackles of shame -
  May your feelings be deep and strong!
  Snezhana giggled and replied:
  - Well, make it up. Actually, you can walk with me. You're smart for eighteen. Tell me, what stories did you submit to the competition?
  Mishka sighed even more heavily and answered:
  - It's hard for me to concentrate. I think about you all the time. About your beautiful hair, and your... The young man glanced down and asked affectionately:
  - You're not afraid to step on a splinter, and your soles will get dirty!
  Snezhana answered harshly:
  - I'm not such a softie. In the village I walked barefoot from frost to frost, on a prickly path, pebbles, pine cones. And you city people. You have no real courage!
  Mishka noticed:
  - Barefoot suits you, and yet walking around the city streets like that.... It's too extravagant!
  Snezhana smiled, what large, pearly teeth she had. Much whiter than her tanned, chocolate skin. Mishka was even surprised that a natural blonde could get so tanned, like an Arab. Maybe it was because she had been in the fresh air since childhood.
  The girl reluctantly put on the shoes and immediately became taller than Mikhail. Snezhana is a tall girl. This even embarrasses her a little and causes a feeling of annoyance - not everyone would want such a big wife. Moreover, many billionaires are short.
  Snezhana dreamed of money. Her imagination was attracted by billions of dollars. And she wanted power too. To give orders and rule the world. Or to make her own films. Which would also be tempting. Something special to voice and unique.
  You don't feel so comfortable in high heels. Really, why would such a pretty girl need shoes before it snows? But in Moscow it's really scary like this...
  Snezhana asked the young man:
  - Do you love me?
  Misha answered with fervor:
  - With all my heart and soul!
  The girl giggled and asked:
  - Then write a story in which Russia defeats Japan under Nicholas II.
  Mishka answered with a sigh:
  - I've already had this. There was even a thematic competition on this very topic!
  Snezhana smiled and suggested:
  - Well, then buy me ice cream!
  Mishka nodded:
  - With pleasure, what kind of pleasure?
  Snezhana declared, baring her teeth:
  - Strawberry in chocolate!
  The young man ran up to the stall and bought two portions in gilded paper glasses.
  Mikhail handed the glass to Snezhana. The girl took it in her hands and slowly licked it with her pink, charming tongue. After which, she cooed:
  - Yes, it's not bad! Ice cream is delicious! When you eat it, forget-me-nots bloom in your soul!
  Misha nodded and remarked:
  - With you I'd go to the Arctic Ocean!
  The girl remained silent. Her thoughts were now on something else. The girl tried to earn money herself and wrote a fantasy story about a time traveler in World War II. More precisely, about two time travelers - a young man and a girl. They tried to warn about the attack, but no one believed them. And they ended up in prison. And on June 22, 1941, the Great Patriotic War began anyway. The course of history could not be changed.
  Snezhana's story got a few likes and views, but the girl didn't get any money for it. Which greatly disappointed the mercantile writer.
  Snezhana was reading Mishka. This young man was typing on his smartphone while walking. And he was doing it successfully. In general, money is easy to spend. But it is hard to get. Snezhana even thought about going on the streets. With her appearance, it promised big money. But she didn"t want to lose her virginity, then the chances of marrying a billionaire would drop sharply. For some reason, oligarchs love virgins. Yes, that"s the situation. Snezhana wanted big money. But she doesn"t have a specific plan on how to saddle a billionaire. Oligarchs don"t meet people online. But there are so many guys there. And they are all so different. And her body so wants affection and passion.
  It took a lot of effort for Snezhana not to lose her virginity. But she held on. Although she had such dreams at night!
  The beauty asked Mishka:
  - Is it hard for you men without girls?
  The young man answered honestly:
  - It's very difficult!
  Snezhana shuddered and answered:
  - And I want to have a billionaire as a husband! Help me, please!
  Mishka whistled, shaking his head:
  - I'm head over heels in love with you! And I won't give you to anyone, especially a pot-bellied oligarch!
  Snezhana winked and said with a sly look:
  - And I will make you my lover! You will love and caress me!
  The young man laughed and replied:
  - You need to look for oligarchs where they are found! Maybe in the most expensive restaurant in Moscow!
  Snezhana bared her teeth and demanded aggressively:
  - Take me there!
  Mishka noticed:
  - There is not a single dish there for less than a thousand dollars!
  Snezhana playfully noted:
  - All the better, at least I'll try something exotic. Don't you have a thousand bucks?
  The young man readily answered:
  - There will be one for you, but for the two of us we need two.
  Snezhana stated decisively:
  - Yes, I'll go alone! And it will be better this way!
  Mishka was embarrassed and kept silent. The girl, meanwhile, finished her ice cream. Threw the empty cup into the trash can. And whistled. She seemed to be in a playful mood.
  Mishka, on the contrary, became sad. Dreams of marriage with Snezhana turned out to be an illusion. Yeah, he has no luck with her. And yet, he is head over heels in love with the girl.
  The young man sang sadly:
  - You are not an angel, but for me, but for me you have become a saint.
  Snezhana interrupted the young man:
  - The word "saint" irritates me! It immediately feels hypocritical and sanctimonious! In general, as the wise say: if a politician crosses himself vigorously, it means his hand is looking for your wallet! - The girl clicked her heels and laughed, singing. - Wallet, wallet, on a string. Hanging on the edge of a shining abyss! And fate is lurking around the corner, and the string is held by an invisible one!
  The girl saw another guy. Here comes Slavka. Also a nice-looking young man. Now you can hit the jackpot from him.
  Snezhana gurgled to Mishka:
  - So you're giving me a thousand dollars?
  The young man hesitated. And Snezhana jumped up and ran to Slavka. The young man was also carrying a bouquet of flowers, only this time they were scarlet. Snezhana jumped up to him and rattled:
  - Hi Slavik! Maybe you could take me to the Emperor restaurant?
  The young man nodded in agreement:
  - Certainly!
  An emerald ring sparkled on his hand. Slavik's father is a millionaire, and he always has money. True, he likes to get physical, but Snezhana beats guys. She, a girl, is very physically strong, and was engaged in martial arts. True, she prefers contactless karate, fearing that someone might spoil her impeccable beauty.
  But her strength and flexibility are top notch. She can move her fist and her leg.
  Slavka shouted at Mishka:
  - Get out of here!
  Mishka clenched his fists:
  - Lower your tone!
  Snezhana bared her teeth and muttered:
  - Yes, Mishka, go, I'll call you later!
  Slavka frowned and hissed:
  - How do you call?
  The big girl growled:
  - And don't you dare be jealous of me! I date whoever I want! And you, Mishka, go away, your time is up!
  The young man stepped back with a sigh. Snezhana winked at Slavka. He was also a handsome young man, red-haired and very popular with the girls. And he was head over heels in love with her. Slavka was richer and could be milked. But he could still sleep with another woman - these men are dogs.
  Slavka said:
  - I wrote you a poem!
  Snezhana giggled and replied:
  - Poetry? You're all drawn to poetry for some reason!
  Slavka nodded and sang;
  Love is a dangerous, beautiful path,
  Everyone who joined knows about this...
  There is no escape from it, no way to jump off -
  Othello strangled Desdemona!
  Snezhana laughed and remarked:
  - That's funny! I'd like to listen to something interesting. And have a snack at the same time!
  Slavka noted with doubt:
  - You are dressed too modestly for the Emperor restaurant, oh most magnificent one!
  Snezhana stated decisively:
  - So dress me up!
  Slavka nodded to his beloved:
  - Let's go! My driver and car are waiting for us around the corner!
  Snezhana answered with a laugh:
  - What a miracle of miracles, your six hundredth Mercedes!
  Slavka corrected:
  - Already the eight hundredth! In general, we have wonderful brands!
  Snezhana jumped up and spun the pinwheel in the air, singing:
  - Girls come in different colors - yellow, white, red. But they all want the same thing - in a fancy car!
  Mercedes is not a favorite car for the large, curvy girl Snezhana. A Cadillac or something even bigger would be nice. They sat down, the driver was a black African, and he winked playfully at the owner.
  The girl asked on the way:
  - Have you ever tried to start any kind of business?
  Slavka handed her the expensive palm beer and gurgled:
  - I tried. In particular, you can get rich selling computer games!
  Snezhana agreed with this:
  - Demand creates supply! Mishka writes all the stories, but who needs them?
  Slavka nodded in agreement:
  - Who knows. Now is not the time for books. Games and movies reign now! And computer graphics!
  Snezhana sipped palm beer, made from coconuts. It was tasty and pleasant. Not like cheap swill. Snezhana didn't like beer, she was afraid of getting fat. She was already meaty. She balances somewhere on the edge where a diet is not superfluous. Snezhana eats a lot, but she also trains a lot. She has abs like tiles and muscles like wire.
  Slavka tries to light a cigarette, but Snezhana frowns and purrs discontentedly:
  - Why do you need this crap! You're ruining your health!
  The young man puts out his cigar and remarks:
  - You seem to have gained a bit of weight! Do you go to the gym?
  Snezhana snapped:
  - I don't have fat, I have muscles! But you, Slavka, could do with pumping up. Mishka would knock you out, and you're picking on him!
  Slavka snorted contemptuously:
  - Teddy bear is a writer and a nerd!
  Snezhana objected:
  - No, his muscles are much bigger and more defined than yours! You're actually kind of skinny!
  Slavka answered seriously:
  - It's natural! I eat a lot. But in general, I don't like that you date Mishka, and Volodya, and Sashka. It's not proper for a girl to hang out with different guys!
  Snezhana grimaced and replied:
  - They are all handsome young men, and have some money. Only with me they behave decently! So you, too, can date me.
  Slavka remarked harshly:
  - Damn it. Well, maybe I'll at least stroke your leg?
  Snezhana answered firmly:
  - If you take me to a restaurant, then fine, I'll allow it!
  Together they went to a fashionable dress shop. Slavka is a little shorter than Mishka and noticeably thinner. Against the background of Snezhana, he generally looks small, the girl is broad in the shoulders, and what size are her breasts. Slavka notices this, and all the time tries to stretch out and stand on his toes.
  Snezhana, on the contrary, begins to hunch over. For a girl, she is quite tall, and she does not like it. Not all men like big girls, especially billionaires. True, her bright beauty compensates for this, there is no end to the guys.
  But sometimes Snezhana starts to feel inferior.
  In general, she is a seasoned girl. At the age of twelve, she managed to get into a special school for breaking one boy's nose and gouging out another's eye. She spent almost a year there. Well, there was nothing particularly scary there. Except that the girls were too nervous, there were a lot of video cameras. But they fed her well, and for an unpretentious village girl, it was normal to sit. And there is a computer room in the special school, and a swimming pool, and they take her on excursions, and only two hours of occupational therapy a day. At home, Snezhana worked much more.
  Her family got into deep debt, and the children had to work like donkeys, contrary to all laws, just like in tsarist times.
  Snezhana served her sentence and even bragged about it. Like, I'm so cool. She was a capable girl and entered Moscow State University without connections. She had an absolute memory, and after reading a textbook once, Snezhana could answer without hesitation.
  But at the same time, this very talented girl did not like studying. She skipped lectures and generally tried to visit the university as rarely as possible.
  Recently, Snezhana has become interested in computer games. Why not? She took her iPhone and started playing, even while swimming.
  Slavka picked out her clothes himself. The young man withdrew money from the card, choosing fashionable, expensive, beautiful clothes.
  Snezhana admired herself in the mirror. She was distinguished by the beauty of a warrior. A muscular body, a narrow waist and luxurious hips with a high bust. Perhaps too broad shoulders and a strong neck - a typical Amazon.
  A face with flawless features, like a statue of an ancient Greek goddess. Probably, this is how the sculptors of Hellas would have depicted Artemis or Athena.
  Snezhana sighed. Alas, many men love fragile and petite women. She has the beauty of a warrior.
  And it"s not so easy to choose a ball gown for her that fits well!
  But somehow they managed to dress her up.
  And Slavka even gave her a necklace made of artificial diamonds. Damn it, the greedy guy, he could have made it out of real stones!
  Snezhana admired herself for a moment. Yes, she looks even more like a princess from the Middle Ages. Only her face is too dark.
  Slavka noted:
  - It wouldn't hurt to whiten your face a bit! You're as dark as an Asian!
  Snezhana objected:
  - I have Aryan features. And I've never used makeup and I won't start!
  Slavka answered with a sigh:
  - Okay. You know better.
  Snezhana was sprayed with expensive perfume, and she, so smart and luxurious, moved after Slavka. He also changed into a tuxedo with a bow tie and put on a top hat. However, he seemed less respectable to her - a boy in a gentleman's suit.
  Slowly, they left the room and got into a nice car.
  Slavka logically reminded:
  - The richest crowd in the restaurant will be much later, they have business during the day. Maybe we should have some fun in the meantime?
  Snezhana answered in an uncertain tone:
  - Let's go for a ride around Moscow!
  And she turned on her iPhone. She couldn't wait to play. This is progress, really: you download any games from the Internet and cut yourself. True, there is a danger. It's more addictive than alcohol.
  Snezhana is playing her favorite role: she is a queen who conquers other countries. Of course, she needs to build an army, raise the economy, and so on. And for this, she needs money and resources. But thanks to Mishka - he suggested the cheater's code. And now she has accumulated resources for herself, and let's stamp out troops and transfer them to other centuries.
  For example, they fight against you with guns on horses and archaic cannons. And you throw atomic bombs and huge tanks at them. Without any doubts or reasoning.
  Snezhana doesn't like to exert herself too much. She throws a twenty-first century armada at the armies of the sixteenth century. And enjoys the beating. What else does she need? She is, after all, a lady of the highest sports rank.
  Snezhana took off her shoes and asked Slavka:
  - Massage my feet, just don't dare put your hands above my knees, I'll hit you!
  Slavka has already fallen under Snezhana's hot hand. She has the strength of a hero.
  And modestly massages her soles.
  The girl plays herself. She put on special virtual glasses. This way the battles are much better visible.
  The illusion of full presence and thousands of units. And your troops are advancing. Here are atomic bombs being dropped on enemy positions. When one falls, thousands of warriors are charred at once. Chemical weapons are also interesting here. They also smoke and rise, these are the demons dancing.
  Snezhana defeats the enemy. The forces are unequal, although she still managed to lose a couple of tanks and several helicopters. And she storms the capital. Here is another state captured.
  Snezhana sang with pleasure:
  - I am one of those queens who loves joy and laughter, but kissing an ordinary jester is a sin!
  And it plays again. Another power to conquer. And here it is again, like an atomic bomb will hit.
  And install lasers on fighters.
  Slava, meanwhile, massages the girl's hard soles. It is obvious that she is engaged in martial arts, and has broken bricks with her bare heel. Slavka thought that such a wife could injure her husband. Wow, she really beats herself.
  But the young man really liked Snezhana. You feel reliably protected with her. Such a woman would not let anyone hurt her husband!
  Slavka thought, what if he hypnotized Snezhana? In general, hypnosis is such a mystery that it always attracted him. Power over the world - that's what he would like!
  Like in one movie: where a brilliant, but slightly crazy scientist tried to subjugate the world by giving commands using thought waves.
  Of course, there were heroes who stopped him. But Slavka would like to learn how to subjugate everyone in a row.
  And become the world emperor! And what about Snezhana - how much she thinks of herself!
  Snezhana continued to play for now. She captured a couple more countries. Using her technical superiority. And then, she fought at sea. Which is also very cool.
  Battleships with atomic weapons against sailing ships. And from a distance the beating goes on. The ships sink, burn by the hundreds.
  Suddenly Snezhana felt sad. She remembered the defeat by the Japanese under Nicholas II. And her mood got worse. That's how we lost then.
  And the girl decisively paused the game and turned on the Internet search for historical strategies.
  Well, now she will fix everything. Here, for example, is the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-1905.
  Slavka distracted her slightly by kissing her bare, pink heel. Snezhana shook her finger:
  - Be careful, little rascal! Or I'll do this!
  And the girl deftly grabbed Slavka's nose with her bare toes. The young man groaned:
  - Ouch, that hurts! Let go!
  Snezhana laughed:
  - What a sissy you are! Eh, men aren't what they used to be these days!
  Slavka agreed with this:
  - Yes, not those!
  The girl let go of the boy's nose and stretched out behind him. She was happy and cheerful!
  Suggested:
  - Let's have a snack!
  Slavka, knowing Snezhana"s tastes, ordered: chocolate-covered custard cakes and a milkshake with coconuts and pineapples.
  The girl began to eat with pleasure. Snezhana loved good food.
  The beauty, however, noted:
  - I wonder what would happen if food were made from carbon dioxide?
  Slavka grinned and replied:
  - This is fantastic!
  Snezhana logically noted:
  -And iPhones are fantastic, and we use them very well!
  Slavka answered, not too willingly:
  - Progress, you know. Progress!
  Snezhana said dreamily:
  - And will we fly to other planets?
  Slavka stated decisively:
  - To the very edge of the universe!
  Snezhana laughed and noted:
  - Yes, that the light of teaching, in winter and spring, I repeat without exception to all the evil spirits of the forest!
  Slavik confirmed:
  - Witty. What don't you like about our world now?
  Snezhana answered honestly:
  - Old women! It's just awful, how ugly old women are!
  Slavik agreed with this:
  - Yes, they are ugly. Although, some of them at seventy-odd years old still look wow!
  Snezhana flashed her teeth:
  - Who, for example?
  Slavik readily answered:
  - Sofia Rotaru!
  Snezhana laughed and logically noted:
  - These are plastic surgeries! It would be cool to look naturally twenty at eighty!
  Slavik agreed:
  - Yeah, cool. Immortality is a wonderful thing in general. Sometimes you start thinking about old age and you get scared!
  Snezhana squeaked and hissed:
  - Let's not talk about sad things. Let's think about, for example, whether to make a film?
  Slavik answered with a sigh:
  - It's expensive to make a good film!
  Snezhana suggested:
  - It can be done without being too expensive. For example, about a women's prison. Something like a girl who was raped by a billionaire and then, to keep her quiet, he put her behind bars!
  Slavik logically noted:
  - Not a new topic. Although, really, it's not that expensive! And have you ever thought about acting in a movie yourself?
  Snezhana answered honestly:
  - Not yet, why?
  Slavik logically noted:
  - You have such an appearance... To play different queens and warrior princesses. And you could earn money at the same time! You love money so much!
  Snezhana nodded in agreement:
  - More than guys! Good idea, I'll have to try it!
  The girl imagined herself as a warlike princess. Or a barbarian leader. How she throws a dagger with her bare toes and pins a black duke to a board. Yes, it's beautiful. And other roles.
  Slavik suggested:
  - Maybe we'll take out a loan and make a film? Something inexpensive. For example, about love. Romantic relationships.
  Snezhana laughed and answered:
  - Of course we'll film it! It can be done for free!
  . CHAPTER #3.
  Pavel Ivanovich Rybachenko sailed on a ship for some time.
  There he did various interesting things. And first of all, he divided the treasures. He did it cool.
  And then he drank some rum again and fell asleep.
  - Maybe for a short time, but still bowed. So you want to fix it! Cool guy!
  - Even in a world like this! But change history!
  Marusya replied:
  - In any case, it will only be an illusion. You understand that!
  - I understand, but a colorful illusion is better than a gray reality!
  - It's not just that! Maybe we shouldn't tempt the race that gave us a chance too much! You know yourself - it's fraught!
  Artem agreed:
  - Bulgakov's Lucifer said: never ask especially from those who are stronger than you. They will offer themselves! A very wise remark, although not new!
  Marusya replied:
  - How can I say it? Pray to God, and don't anger the devil, such is the folk wisdom. I will say the following on my own behalf, serve someone alone, but don't make enemies. In general, if Hitler had been more flexible, it would have been more difficult for us.
  - I agree, his rudeness and stupidity even turned former allies against the Wehrmacht. The same Romanians and Italians rebelled against Germany. Stalin was more cunning!
  Even the capitalist allies helped him! Imagine the USA as the main potential enemy, the USSR sent billions of gold dollars worth of aid, from food to tanks and planes. And the US air force was not weak, especially the B-29, it carried no more no less than ten tons of bombs, which was very decent for those times. A similar Soviet bomber appeared only in 1948, and not without copying.
  - Did they supply tanks?
  - Yes, "Chevron" and "Pershing". It must be said that, contrary to the opinion of many military men, "Chevron" was not inferior to the famous T-34 in terms of its combat qualities. In particular, if we compare later models, the engine power is approximately the same. True, the T-34-85 gun had a larger caliber of 85 millimeters versus 76.2 for "Chevron", but due to the fact that the American had a higher initial projectile velocity, the difference in killing power was small. The T-35-85 took 100-millimeter armor from a distance of 1000 meters, and "Chevron" from 800-millimeters. But the armor of "Chevron" is thicker, 100-75 millimeters versus 90-40 for T-34. As for quality, the tough American steel was at least no worse, and maybe even better than the Soviet one, since the T-34 hulls often cracked from impacts even from small shells.
  In addition, the Chevron had a hydrostabilizer that significantly increased the effectiveness of shooting on the move. Such ones would appear on Soviet tanks only in the fifties. And the Chevron had better optics.
  - Why didn"t they like him?
  - He was demanding about the quality of gasoline, which was a significant shortage during the war. Try and provide it!
  - Supply is a long-standing problem! - Marusya agreed. - Nothing causes such complaints as providing the body with blood, and the army of ancient times with fuel. Now that thermoquark synthesis has been discovered, it is not such a big headache, but still!
  - I think it's not weak! Synthesis can't replace everything!
  - If it is millions of times stronger than the thermonuclear process, then that's it! Although there are more advanced and safer ways to obtain energy. And what can you tell us about other tanks!
  - "Pershing" is probably the best American tank of the Second World War. It had a powerful gun of 90 mm caliber and an initial projectile velocity of 900 meters per second! Great killing power. There were also guns of 105 mm caliber. They successfully fought German tanks, especially the famous "Panther". Only the "King Tiger" could withstand a hit from the "Pershing". However, the T-54 tank surpassed its American counterpart. In general, the Yankees helped quite well, although they were slow in opening the second front.
  - Why didn"t he make a deal with Hitler against the USSR?
  - There were many reasons, but the main one is that Hitler is an aggressive anti-Semite, and most capitalists in the US and Britain are either Jews or have Jewish roots. So Hitler's anti-Semitism drove this cannibal into a corner, or rather into hell.
  - The Bible says: whoever touches you touches the apple of my eye, thus says Jehovah! So it is better not to touch the Jews. After all, the Bible was not written for nothing by the smartest people of our time, but was dictated by God himself.
  - Only they sometimes used it in a very vile way. The inquisitors loved to quote Christ: if anyone tempts one of these little ones, it is better to put a stone on his neck and throw him into the pool. Although Jesus did not mean that heretics should be dealt with physically. And the witch hunt. And here, too, they referred to the Bible.
  - And the evidence was obtained by torture! Such horror does happen! - Marusya agreed.
  Ahead of us a small railway station loomed, it looked like it was already a town of a decent size.
  - It's Lyuban written on the road sign! - said Marusya.
  - So, there are less than two hundred kilometers left to Minsk, wow, we've almost run through half of Belarus. - Artem was surprised. - If you tell anyone, they won't believe you.
  - Why chat with just anyone, with all sorts of suspicious individuals? You need to be more cunning in choosing your friends.
  Numerous teenagers and younger boys worked hard, tidying up the city's outskirts. They leveled trees, laid asphalt, swept, trimmed bushes. They tidied up the city. Artem generally noticed that Belarusians maintain a certain order. This is especially noticeable when you enter Belarus from Russia. There is a clear lack of order in the country, although under Stalin, discipline was probably everywhere. Although he is Georgian, his character is not inflexible, he taught Russians to work. And what else can you do if you can't do it without coercion. The world is based on violence, the torch of anger rages with a vengeance - the highest tension of forces is awakened by pain and fear.
  Marusya, having finished her run, walked on her hands, she looked very sexy with her bare tanned legs. The man in the NKVD uniform looked at her and demanded documents.
  Marusya thrust it in, the lieutenant of the punitive troops casually glanced at it and handed it back:
  - An athlete, a Komsomol member, a very striking person! - he noted. - And why do you walk on your hands?
  - I'm training them, I need to distribute the load more evenly. - Said the cool Marusya. - Maybe you want to have a cocktail with me!
  The lieutenant waved his hand:
  - I don't use it!
  - Then just milk! It will be funny.
  The NKVD officer waved his hand:
  - It is possible!
  I approached a woman selling fresh goat milk and ordered two glasses.
  Marusya pulled off a "trick" here too, standing on her hands, that is, she grabbed the glass with her toes upside down and, deftly wriggling, clinked glasses with the officer.
  - For our victory!
  - What are you talking about? Are you waiting for the Germans to attack!
  - Hitler, like a predatory jackal, sharpened his teeth and pushed closer to our border. Well, a wolf pack is always hungry, hoping to knock down a not very vigilant Russian bear.
  - Be careful with such conversations, because one old woman predicted that the Germans would strike on June 22, so we arrested her. We started interrogating her actively, and she just went and kicked the bucket. She predicted the Germans, but she couldn't guess what would happen to her.
  - Was she beaten?
  - With rubber hoses, it's completely safe for your health. And your legs are so beautiful that I really want to walk on them with a stick. To hear you scream in pain.
  - Then arrest me!
  The officer shook his head:
  - You are a captain, a military woman, which means you will be shot, I didn't want to ruin such beauty. But if you were a civilian, you would have gotten a term. You are a strong girl, you could have withstood torture. But just in case, put on shoes, your bare feet are too tempting. You know what a pleasure it is to beat women on the feet, try it yourself.
  - With men, better with you! - Marusya jumped up, her eyes flashing. The sadistic officer irritated her. She thought that she could kill him with one blow, but there were people around. Although death can be delayed. The girl remembered the secret techniques of the star special forces.
  The officer was a young man, about thirty years old, mustachioed, with pleasant Caucasian features. The Belarusians were too kind a people, so they handed over control of this republic to the more cruel Georgians. Especially since they were sorry for the blood of others. Tsavana was famous for his particular cruelty. He killed so many people that he himself was shot. However, the apparatus remained, every year a plan was sent down, how many needed to be imprisoned and shot. The GAULAG system required new prisoners, especially since production plans for the whole country were increasing every year. And it didn't matter that the overwhelming majority of people, even those who were rotting in the camps, were fanatically devoted to the party and Stalin. The plan for repressions would be fulfilled and exceeded.
  The girl leaned towards him:
  - You're cute!
  - And in the Caucasus, all men are eagles.
  - But there is a chief eagle! - The girl sang:
  Stalin the eagle over the planet
  Spread your wings and take off!
  The enemy will be called to account
  Will be defeated, broken!
  The officer agreed:
  - Beautifully said! Among Caucasian women, it is very rare to find such pearly hair, like the peak of Kazbek. Give me a kiss, my dear, I want to feel your lips.
  Marusya leaned against him. She felt a strange excitement, the Caucasian's moustache tickled her lips. How strangely the man smelling of grape wine caused a fit of passion, especially strong in a virgin. Between her legs a fiery flower blossomed, the immaculate womb of Venus was ready to pour out its jewels and living water.
  Marusya felt shame and anger, her fingers squeezed the executioner-officer's carotid artery. In an hour he would have a stroke from this, and there would be one less scoundrel.
  The girl broke away and said:
  - Well, how is it?
  - You kiss like a princess. However, I feel like a man has never touched your lips before. You know, I can put you in a cell with criminals, and you will experience the love of thirty "hungry" men at once.
  - It's a dubious pleasure! - Marusya objected. - Although there may be women who dream about it.
  - Thirty is too much, although if you service three at once, you'll be done in a day. Or maybe even faster, you're so hot. Although it will hurt a little if you're not used to it.
  Marusya replied:
  - I appreciate your humor! But isn't this too vulgar for an officer of the department that should remain loyal to the party and protect the people from temptations?
  The Caucasian noted:
  - And you're already scared! No, I want only you. If you're mine, you won't end up in a cell, and we won't put out cigarettes on your bare heels. On the contrary, I'll be like the knight Ivanhoe!
  Marusya stated:
  - I like the latter much more! It's like in that joke. The general asks his wife:
  - Love is encouragement or work!
  The wife replies:
  - Of course it's work! It would be better if you sent a platoon of young soldiers instead of yourself!
  The Caucasian replied:
  - A witty joke, but also vulgar for such a young girl, and even a communications captain.
  - I take an example from you! So that the couple would be a match!
  The officer suggested:
  - There is a great restaurant here called "Barmaley", let's go and have some wine.
  - I don't drink!
  - What Russian doesn't drink, and at someone else's expense?
  - I'm an athlete!
  - It's very weak! Like cider! I don't want any more myself, otherwise my subordinates will see that I'm drunk.
  Marusya was thinking about how to get rid of her boyfriend. If she had a stroke in the restaurant while drinking with him, it would lead to unnecessary questions. Why show off, and time is precious.
  Artem saved the situation. The boy jumped up to them and shouted:
  - The train has already arrived at the platform, we are urgently called to headquarters! Hurry up!
  Marusya nodded:
  - Discipline and order above all! Bye, my dear!
  The officer took out a cigarette:
  - Do you want to smoke Bicho? You're such a handsome guy, we really like to spank pretty boys.
  - I'm an athlete! Artem jumped, turning over in the air. Is a cigarette poison, some kind of drug?
  - Well, you've been caught, you bastard! I'll arrest you! You called Stalin a drug addict.
  Artem was found:
  - Stalin smokes a pipe!
  - It doesn't matter! Detain him!
  The boy ran with all his might, his heels blackened by the railroad stones flashing across the field. Two policemen in white uniforms rushed after him, but where could they go! Artyom literally had an Olympic record for a hundred meters, and by a decent margin. Getting into the terrible basements of the NKVD, where it is permitted to torture children from the age of twelve, is more than a dubious pleasure. In addition, they can send you to a cell with criminals who will deprive boys of their manhood. Even in modern Russia, confessions are often beaten out by putting you in a cell with criminals. Medvedev drove the police a little, torture is now rarely used, but try to prove that there was pressure when you are in the press hut.
  - Stop, we'll shoot! - The policemen shouted. And they actually fired two shots into the air. Artem began to run along the broken line, as he had been taught in the army and in the virtual world. But it turned out to be unnecessary. The Belarusian policemen did not want to kill a boy, almost a child.
  - What a bastard! How fast!
  - Like the little humpbacked horse! It seems like it will fly.
  No one tried to help catch him. The boy didn't look like a criminal, and no one needed trouble. They would drag him around as a witness, and then put him in jail if he said something wrong. Artyom disappeared into the copse. He ran for a long time, only slightly slowing down in the forest. His lungs allowed it.
  The officer, carried away by the chase, shouted and even tried to shoot the boy himself, but being drunk and at a great distance, he missed.
  - Ooh, little snake! He managed to get away after all! How fast he runs! An obvious spy.
  He looked back, Marusya had disappeared. The girl was already on the train. The officer thought about it, he wanted to catch the cute boy, insert his fingers into the doorway and squeeze. Hang him up, on the rack, enjoying the way the candles burn the child's bare feet. The fire of the child's small feet will slowly become covered with blisters. And the smell of fresh shashlik, characteristic of torture by fire. What a thrill! It is not even clear what is better, to torture or to love! But to declare a little-known boy wanted is also not the case. Who would want to distract soldiers from work for the sake of a barefoot lad. No one will believe that he is a saboteur. And if they do not catch him, then there will be trouble.
  Another officer, slightly older and with a more luxuriant moustache, ran up to him. Some similarity in their faces showed that they were brothers.
  - Hello Arby.
  - And you are brother Sultan.
  - I see who you missed!
  Arbi burst into tears:
  - If only I had missed one! But as it is, two, a boy and a woman! I don't know what's more annoying!
  The Sultan laughed:
  - Of course, it's worse to miss a woman! Is he a blonde?
  - Blonde, and such a beauty, it's incredible!
  - Don't be sad! We'll catch you!
  At that moment the whistle sounded and the train slowly moved forward. It gradually picked up speed.
  Arby cursed:
  - Well, my dream is flying away!
  The Sultan consoled:
  - Then let's catch Bicho! No one has ever escaped from my Executioner.
  He pointed to a dog as big as a two-year-old calf. This creature had huge fangs, a killer dog, with powerful paws. A mix of several breeds, specially trained to catch fugitives.
  - The executioner? Personally, I prefer to call her Baskerville, she is also the height of a young lioness.
  - Is the kid big?
  - About fourteen, maybe even thirteen, still a snot-nosed kid.
  The Sultan bared his teeth:
  - The most suitable age for torture. So listen, I'll let the dog loose, it'll catch him by the leg and drag him to us. It'll drag the boy through the forest, branches and potholes, but he'll stay alive. And then we'll slowly roast him like a lamb. I got a forbidden book by the Marquis de Sade, we can try acid, stretching, new tricky torture devices. In particular, it describes several types of medieval chairs and devices, including ones with rifled bolts greased with brine and pepper.
  Arby's mouth watered:
  - That's great! At the same time, we'll arrest two, no, four, young chicks today, they'll pass through our arsenal.
  - Current is the purest method of torture, the main thing is to find the right points and complement them with the right angle of stretching.
  - The executioner takes the trail and catches the bastard! Note that this is a unique dog, if you say kill, it will rip out the guts of anyone, it will spare no one.
  The formidable creature unmistakably determined who to chase, despite the multitude of bare-legged pioneers working around.
  
  Artem ran fast, but at the same time, having been on his feet all day, he felt very tired. However, his body's endurance allowed him to rush through all he could. Borovikov thanked fate that he was in the body of a former slave, the unbearable labor in the quarries had killed many, but had hardened him. Therefore, moving away at a decent speed, he could think about his situation. It was not enviable. Contact with Marusya was lost. Although why, he was going to Minsk to Pavlov and he would find her. The capital of Belarus was not that far, six or seven hours of running, and taking into account that the trees were in his way, he would get there. Would he be able to withstand such a pace?
  He must endure it otherwise, no man.
  - I will show courage and win the fight with evil fate! - The boy whispered through his lips.
  And he ran again. In general, he was surprised where such sadists come from. Would a normal person enjoy watching other people suffer? Could anyone like a girl moaning on the rack? Oh, perverts, I wish they would be punished! Most likely, Marusya has already thought of something. Probably killed during a kiss. She can do it, not for nothing that she is a believer. In general, all churchmen are Pharisees, truly wolves in sheep's clothing. It is not for nothing that some knightly orders had a swastika as a symbol. Although there is nothing bad in the swastika itself, an ancient Slavic symbol denoting the cycle of nature: four ends for the four seasons. Banning the swastika on the grounds that it was used by the fascists is as absurd as banning the Russian tricolor flag on the grounds that the Nazi accomplices, the Vlasovites, fought under it.
  Artem even wrote an article in a newspaper at one time, but there is no point in distinguishing between ideology and its symbol. By the way, the most peaceful religion in the world, Buddhism, also uses the swastika as one of its symbols.
  Behind him, Artem heard a noise. A shadow flashed. A wolf? Flashed through the boy's mind. But it was racing, and behind it was something much larger than a wolf. A monstrous dog with fangs stuck its muzzle in. The boy felt such fear that he almost made a trickle. The executioner's wife jumped on him, her teeth snapped almost without tearing off his bare heel. The boy picked up speed. If Artem had been a simple boy, the large dog would have caught up with him, but he was still a genetically improved child from a more developed world. For some time they ran on equal terms, the distance neither shortening nor increasing. The dog's labored breathing could be heard. The executioner clearly did not understand why a seemingly simple child was so fast and did not want to lag behind.
  Artem suddenly stumbled, luck turned away from the brat. The dog jumped on his shoulders. However, the boy managed to dodge to the side as he fell, only a paw scratched his bare, sweaty back. Turning around, Artem snatched the dagger he had grabbed from the Germans. It was a good German weapon. It gave him confidence, driving away his fear. The executioner, however, still jumped on him, trying to bite him. The boy, demonstrating excellent reaction, hit his opponent in the eye. He managed to pierce and simultaneously get away from the carcass. The almost mortally wounded monster roared wildly and thrashed like hell.
  Artem suddenly felt the piranha instinct and rushed to finish off the dog. But he ran into a paw strike, and a fang painfully pricked his shoulder. True, the blow landed very close to the heart and the dog began to thrash in agony. Artem jumped back and ran, the Executioner, leaving a bloody trail, rushed after him. But the dog's endurance did not last long, gradually slowing down, the dog froze and froze like a carcass.
  - Victory! - Artem shouted.
  He, having overcome his hesitation, decided to see if the bitch was dead. The dog lay motionless, the boy approached.
  - And what did Polkan bark about?
  He wanted to put his ear to the mighty chest, when suddenly the one and a half hundredweight dog came to life and rushed at the boy. The fangs sank into his bare chest, but the strong muscles prevented them from digging too deeply. Nevertheless, the boy flew away, unexpectedly dropping the dagger. The monster jumped on him, but did not do it fast enough. As a result, Artem hit him in the jaw with his foot.
  - Well, you're just like in a movie! At the last moment the villain comes to life.
  In response, the huge dog howled and tried to continue the attack. Artem struck again with his fist, and with the dexterity of a special forces soldier, rolled back to the dagger. He picked it up unsuccessfully, cut his fingers, it's good that the skin is not as soft as that of ordinary boys. The Germans are Germans, they sharpened it sharper than a razor, and the quality of the steel is good, after all, an essay. Somehow he intercepted the weapon.
  The dog jumped on him, but sluggishly. Arthur hit the other eye, but missed, but smashed its muzzle.
  - Brrr! Your vomit!
  The dog attacked again, weakly. The boy rushed at her, he felt a furious rage. The most annoying thing is that a dog deceived a man. And this is very bad, a humiliation of the dignity of the true master of animals.
  - Take that! That's not enough! Here's another animal for you! - Artem said, throwing punches.
  The dog thrashed in agony and went quiet. Nevertheless, the boy stabbed her in the chest several more times, finishing her off:
  - I won't let you get up and kill people again.
  The dog finally fell silent, deader than ever. The boy wanted to skin it, but he thought that he was already covered in its blood, and it would take too much time to skin it with just one dagger.
  - Okay, you'll rot anyway, scum. And I'm off!
  However, the boy's tired legs did not obey him very well, and he had to switch to a walk, his heels buzzing.
  - Again I'm alone and walking, I don't know where! - Artem said to himself. - Or rather, I know Minsk.
  On the way, the boy tried to put his thoughts in order. What to do if Pavlov does not believe them. Get to Zhukov? But the movie image of the most famous commander of the Second World War and reality are two different things. Indeed, Zhukov, being the Chief of the General Staff, met with Stalin for seventy-five hours. And at the same time, it is not given that he warned the future generalissimo about the impending aggression. Well, the assertion that Zhukov is an idiot and did not know anything is not suitable. The same GRU reported interesting information, and the concentration of Germans at the Soviet borders has long been no secret. However, this option is also possible. Intelligence significantly exaggerated the real forces of the Wehrmacht and perhaps Zhukov believed that too few enemy troops were gathered at the border. Such an assumption is quite logical, Hitler, trying to knock out as many concessions as possible from Stalin, was a master of bluff. Nevertheless, what prevented at least withdrawing troops from the ledges or digging trenches. Even if we assume that the Soviet army was preparing to go on the offensive and deliver a preemptive strike, it is still criminal carelessness. It was impossible to ignore something like that. And did Stalin want to start the war first? After all, he was a very cautious devil in foreign policy. Take, for example, the war with Finland. The main Mannerheim line of defense was broken, the fortress city of Vyborg was taken, it seemed, roll to the east, take Helsinki. But no, Stalin stopped the armada of troops that fully deserved to enter the capital of Finland as victors. True, there were rumors that England and France wanted to land a hundred-thousand-strong landing force on the coast of Finland. But this was an outright bluff. Fighting Germany on the side that could soon be joined by accomplices in the Anti-Comintern Pact Italy and Japan, to fight the Soviet Union was pure suicide. The English are pragmatic people and would not create unnecessary problems for themselves because of the comparatively small Finland. Moreover, they did not even introduce decent sanctions against the USSR. Well, the USA declared a moral embargo, but not a real blockade. They supplied the USSR with various equipment and materials, which then ended up in Hitler's hands. That is, America did not try too hard, and therefore the allies dependent on the USA did not move.
  Did Stalin want to seize Finland? Of course he did, a puppet pro-Soviet Finnish government was even created on December 6. But there was not enough spirit to bring the matter to its logical conclusion. Finland was very important in its strategic position with large reserves of bauxite and controlling the strategic borders of Scandinavia. In addition, given the possibility of a probable war with Germany, it was necessary to secure the northern front from a flank attack by the Finns. After all, it was stupid to fight the Wehrmacht that had conquered Europe and also Finland, to pull back large forces. During the Great Patriotic War, more than a dozen Soviet divisions were busy on the Finnish front, which stretched for more than a thousand kilometers. In addition, Stalin seemed to want to return to the borders of 1914, but Finland had been part of the Russian Empire for more than a century. And according to the secret Molotov-Ribbentrop protocols, the territory right up to Sweden went to the USSR or Russia. Unfortunately, due to Stalin's indecisiveness, a great opportunity to start a war with the Reich from a more advantageous strategic position was missed. It must be said that Stalin also offered the Finns rather advantageous terms of territory exchange: I will give you twice as much land! The leader only wanted to move the border further away from Leningrad.
  - These are the paradoxes of history! Such opportunities were lost! - Artem said to himself.
  That is, Stalin was not such a tough guy. Besides, he refused the opportunity to occupy Finland in 1944, when no one was stopping him, and even the USA would have swallowed such a pill. Too bad he didn"t dare! However, there were other examples of Stalin"s indecisiveness in foreign policy. In particular, during the post-war conflict with Turkey. According to the Versailles Treaty of 1919, the cities and adjacent regions of Elzerum and Tangor were transferred into the eternal possession of Tsarist Russia. This was fair considering the important role the empire played in the defeat of the Ottomans. In addition, Britain took control of Iraq and Kuwait, and France took control of Syria and Palestine. So, against their background, what Russia received was not excessive. But in 1921, the bald coward Lenin signed a treaty that not only gave Elzerum and Tangor with the adjacent lands, but even gave away the Kars region, which had belonged to Russia until 1914. Such an agreement was on the verge of betrayal, especially since Turkey, exhausted by the First World War, was barely holding on, and the Soviet army numbered more than five million soldiers. It is clear to anyone - it was not worth giving up so many to the Ottomans. Stalin quite rightly demanded these lands back. The Turks balked. What to do? Naturally, solve the problem by force of arms! After all, there are enough troops, especially since the army was hardened by the Second World War, and has excellent equipment. But Stalin then unexpectedly withdrew all demands, although this is what allowed Turkey to join NATO. Oh, Koba - you are a weakling!
  . CHAPTER #4.
  Pavel-Lev woke up again. He jumped a bit, then jumped up again, to the barrel of rum. He took it and drank the sweet alcoholic drink. And then he passed out again:
  Continuing to run and increasing the pace, Oleg Rybachenko, in order to amuse himself, continued to compose something magnificent on the run;
  Montana de Sable tried not to stand out too much among the pirate fraternity. Of course, her abilities, skills, knowledge gave the opportunity to create her own empire in the pre-industrial world and could even claim power over the planet, but... Why create unnecessary noise around yourself. For example, sometimes brave merchants from other worlds fly in to them too. And the news of a too famous pirate will spread quickly and far.
  No, Montana, holding the crew in iron paws, was content with little, and did not go beyond the level of an ordinary, moderately successful captain of a brigantine.
  There was no human race in this little world, but several human captains - also probably fugitives - sailed the oceans.
  Montana tried to call at ports less often and to have less contact with other filibusters. Unless it came to open showdowns.
  There are two relatively intelligent races on the planet that are considered aborigines. The shelled, relatively mobile mollusks and the warm-blooded creatures that are considered to be crayfish with human figures and donkey ears.
  Both races are not hostile to each other on a biological level. They are divided into mixed states, which wage war among themselves. There are plenty of pirates, the very dawn, which lasts for more than one century.
  The world, which has stopped in its technological development, is at the level of the Morgan era. That is, approximately the beginning of the seventeenth century on earth. Or even a little lower, since flintlock triggers for cannons have not been invented, and gunpowder in muskets is ignited with fuses. There are no mortars or grapeshot yet. Such cannons, loaded from the barrel, are primitive. They do not even reach the Morgan era.
  But on the other hand, medicine is better - even antibiotics or, more precisely, medicines with similar effects have appeared. In the treatment of wounds, thanks to the generous local nature, they can brew such potions that even the earthly medicine of the twenty-first century would envy.
  If they don't kill you right away, the wounded return to duty within 24 hours. Even severed limbs can grow back. Albeit more slowly.
  Montana de Sable even feared that the presence of miraculous medicinal plants would attract excessive interest from merchants to this world.
  But the protracted war, first with the clones, and then between the rebels and the Sith Empire, broke the previous trade ties. And the medicines quickly lost their properties as they moved away from the center of the galaxy.
  The warrior from the space empire could have pushed the development of progress, but she preferred the role of a fox in a deep hole for now. Of course, they are looking for her in this galaxy too. Maybe even first of all in the chaotic place of the clash of the Sith and the Jedi.
  And, of course, yesterday's girlfriends will be monitoring all the news and rumors about something unusual.
  It is no wonder that Montana so often looks with anxiety at the sky that knows no night.
  The spotted shark swimming behind them did not initially arouse much interest among the pirates - if it was swimming, then let it be swimming. But Oleg Rybachenko apparently decided that company with the pirates was still better than trying to find his fortune on the coast.
  The more so, the boy, even the child prodigy, has a romantic mood. Who wouldn't want to repeat the exploits of Morgan, Captain Blood (the last person is a purely literary invention!), Van Drake, Flint, Blackbeard. And become famous for centuries!
  Besides, Oleg understood that the naked boy would have to start his career on land with the rank of a servant, or even a slave. Who is he here - without a family, without a tribe? You never know - they might mistake him for a spy!
  You can make a career with pirates! They will test you, make sure you are a strong fighter, and you will become an equal member of the gang. And then, it will be like in the fantasy novels of his famous father: victories, boarding, city captures and a lot of adventures!
  Of course, it's not so safe to get involved with pirates in real life. And sometimes they do bad things to pretty boys. But Oleg believed that he would beat off a couple of men who weren't trained in martial arts, and the rest would respect him after that!
  Still, the Hollywood cliche is tenacious: beat up a couple of bandits and you're already an authority. In reality, it may turn out that you'll be pressed to the end! But on the other hand, the choice is limited!
  Oleg, jumping on the ridge of a large and fat shark, yelled a banal phrase:
  - I come in peace!
  Since the brig didn't have a Jolly Roger, it might not have been pirated. Rybachenko Jr. was also wary of the language barrier. When it came to time travelers, in some fantasy works they had the wonderful gift of understanding the worlds they were able to travel to, and in others they didn't.
  So everything here could have been hanging by a thread!
  Montana, who has a keen ear, heard the boy. It seemed to her that the language of interplanetary communication was accepted in the former republic and well known in the galaxy. The warrior learned the local dialect quickly - thanks to genetic modification of the organism and bioengineering. She has simulated the ability to remember everything from the first time. Plus, there is also training by loading a file into her beautiful head - when information is recorded on the brain, like on a computer hard drive!
  The warrior jumped up abruptly and stealthily glanced overboard... Her still perfect eyes immediately took in the large panorama. And Montana, using only a reflex developed in training, suppressed the cry of surprise escaping from her throat.
  A naked, muscular boy is a rare sight in this world. Although it seems that two or three rogue captains still roamed this world or more...
  However, most likely these were people not from the space empire, but from more backward and wild worlds.
  This version was supported by the fact that none of the humanoid captains became great celebrities or progressors.
  And here is a boy - and clearly a new one, he hasn't had time to get a strong tan from the local sun. Montana herself had very elastic and strong skin, but this boy was at risk of getting burned... Although the burns from these three suns are not noticeable at first.
  The warrior did not show surprise, or rather, did not prolong her surprise, and gave the order:
  - Drop the ladder and accept the passenger! No rudeness!
  The mollusks and crayfish carried out the order without unnecessary arguments. In principle, there are advantages in non-aggressive and stable civilizations in stagnation. They were convinced that Montana was the strongest - they accepted him as the leader, and did not dispute it anymore.
  However, the captain-cosmonaut found them boring. These guys were too emotionally impoverished and what could one talk about with them?
  Montana even yawned at their naive stupidity. To be fair, the crew was clean, especially the mollusks, and not too voracious. One species was cold-blooded, the other, although warm-blooded, had elements of anabiosis and economy.
  When there is no work to do, some of the crew members, or rather almost the entire crew, simply doze off. This is both peaceful and economical in food and water. It is good that the natives have not forgotten how to love jewelry, gold coins, and other luxury items. Otherwise, the pirates would have nothing to do here at all.
  However, this did not add to the fun!
  Oleg Rybachenko was very happy to hear a young female voice. The young lady will keep the pirates in an iron fist and will not allow them to commit vile acts against the child. Or maybe there are only Amazons there? How wonderful!
  The sight of the local aborigines - and the crayfish, despite the heat, were wearing cuirasses, and the shellfish had decorated themselves with ribbons - made the boy prodigy exclaim:
  - Wow!
  Almost naked, a woman of athletic beauty rose before the boy, like a fairy-tale genie from a bottle:
  - Hello, Pulsar! - The lady extended her hand to the boy.
  Oleg shook it carefully and said:
  - You're just like Fata Morgana!
  The girl, flexing her muscles, answered:
  - I'm Montana! The terror of the seas and oceans! The coolest warrior on this planet!
  Oleg looked at the girl-chieftain cautiously. She was even too muscular. Well, like a professional bodybuilder, and this excessive accumulation of muscle wires deprived Montana of some of her attractiveness - despite her perfectly correct facial features. However, her developed chest retained a semblance of femininity, and her waist was thin against the background of her luxurious hips.
  The boy extended his hand and said modestly:
  - I am Oleg Olegovich Rybachenko! A tenth-grade student at a specialized school... I will soon be twelve years old!
  Montana smirked contemptuously.
  - You're still too young for a human! By your standards, I'm already over a hundred cycles old!
  Oleg answered without unnecessary servility:
  - And you look wonderful!
  Montana giggled in response:
  - And we are all like that! There is no old age!
  The boy prodigy became curious:
  - You don't age! - The boy looked around and, putting his index finger to his lips, asked. - Does that mean you can live for millions of years?
  The girl shrugged uncertainly:
  - But no one knows that yet! Immortality was discovered a little over one thousand two hundred cycles ago. And by human standards, almost one and a half thousand years. So we don't have any "millionaires" yet. The oldest is one thousand four hundred cycles!
  Oleg Rybachenko asked the obvious question:
  - What does the eldest look like?
  Montana giggled at this:
  - Just like me... Maybe it has a little more meat on it!
  The boy prodigy tried to imagine a more fleshy woman than Montana, and it became very funny! Oleg burst out laughing and almost flew overboard.
  The warrior grabbed the boy by the chin, pulled him sharply towards her and hissed:
  - You have a choice - either join my crew as a cabin boy, or go overboard!
  Oleg answered ambiguously:
  - Agree!
  - Then listen!
  Montana shook the boy and ordered harshly:
  - Raise the mizzenmast!
  In general, if Oleg had previously imagined the role of a cabin boy somewhat naively and romantically, now he is convinced that it is not for nothing that there is such a crossword puzzle. What is "Sea Battle"? The four-letter answer is cabin boy!
  By boy he apparently means a slave boy!
  However, Montana, seeing that the active boy rushed to carry out her order with enthusiasm, remembered:
  - Wait a minute! You'll burn up all naked! Go to the cabin, I'll grease you up!
  Oleg himself realized that it was dangerous to wander around the African steam room with uncovered skin. Although, despite the heat, the rays seemed gentle and pleasant. The skin had already begun to turn black, and was moderately chocolate in color, tending toward ebony.
  In the captain's cabin, barbaric luxury reigned. On the walls hung weapons, abundantly studded with jewels. Mostly cold, but there were a couple of small guns, and bulky pistols. However, they also fired from a fuse.
  In addition, there was a seven-colored, lush skin of an unknown animal hanging - the size of a rhinoceros. The cabin is quite spacious, maybe even too spacious for such a small vessel as a brigantine.
  But considering the crew's simplicity, Montana could well afford such luxury. Let the rest lie like sardines in barrels or on the deck. She has the right to enjoy luxury. So in Rozanata, the education system is barracks-like. No, they have luxury. Women are women after all.
  They are drawn to everything beautiful! And they are capable of painting their faces and bodies, and decorating themselves.
  Although on the other hand there are no men, and lesbianism is considered illegal and immoral. At the same time, of course, the sexual instinct cannot be suppressed by radiation alone. And in this case, the girls use the services of the males of the conquered races. Such is the Solon solution!
  Oleg blushed standing naked in front of the almost naked lady, and when she began to rub him, he completely flooded with crimson light. Moreover, the jade rod swelled and began to pulsate. And it is so shameful when a heroic woman caresses you. And when she began to lubricate perfection itself, while smilingly informing:
  - This sensitive area needs to be especially protected from sunlight!
  There was an explosion... The boy even screamed! Montana greedily licked the white, sweet porridge and chirped:
  - My little present! How emotionally unstable you are!
  Oleg used to be massaged by women, but now he had already begun to become a real man. And he felt the basic instinct in his veins. Which made him want to howl and scream!
  Montana, who knew that there were men of her own species in this galaxy, must have understood the boy's state and whispered:
  - Calm down! I care about your health! We'll play later, little stallion!
  But it never got to the games. The space warrior began training the boy. In addition to hard work, she began intensively teaching Oleg martial arts and sword fighting.
  The boy prodigy had an understanding of Kendo, and he was a good fencer in the labyrinth, but this shrew had superhuman speed.
  She could defeat a whole squad of masters of sports - bioengineering, and fast reaction. Oleg, although trained from infancy and with good genetics, is still a person without modifications of genes and body. And if your vis-a-vis surpasses a cheetah in speed, then what can you do with him?
  Montana, in order to impress the boy, lifted the more than three-ton bow gun of the brigantine onto her shoulders and walked around the ship with it. Thus causing the pirates to gasp in surprise. Then she carefully put "Big Tom" back in place.
  At the same time, it cannot be said that the space warrior strained herself too much. Her muscles really are like wire. However, Oleg reminded that Porthos also took a ton of weight on his shoulders and walked around the hall with such a chest six times.
  But Porthos didn't know modern training methods or chemistry. But the girl was a female, which meant she could brag!
  Oleg cautiously hinted that the aim of the muskets could be improved a little, but Montana hissed angrily:
  - Don't meddle in your own business, cabin boy! Be glad that I'm teaching you!
  The boy's warrior was trained very harshly. She inflicted harmless but painful wounds on him, gave him bruises, punished him. She behaved like a Spartan.
  The wounds, however, healed quickly with ointments, but the space warrior adorned them very generously and forgave nothing.
  The scars also disappeared without a trace from the potion, and the boy became blacker and blacker every day. Only his hair was white - like asbestos, and his skin was like a Negro - a Papuan. Usually, in the USA, Negroes are lighter.
  While Oleg was learning the science of piracy and could not particularly boast of adventures and exploits, his brother Volka Rybachenko moved to a more cheerful and civilized place.
  The karate boy didn't know that the planet Tatooine, widely known on Earth, thanks to the famous space saga - "Star Wars". But, that it was not Earth, he immediately understood by the blue shine of the sand.
  After the labyrinth, Volka, having spun in a fiery tornado, fell from a small height onto the hot sand. At first, the karate boy thought that he was in the Arabian desert near the Red Sea.
  The sand was hot and the karate kid quickly climbed out of it. The skin on his stomach and torso was more sensitive than on his rough, always bare soles.
  Volka shook himself vigorously, his sides and stomach were pricking unpleasantly. The karate boy glanced at the sky (to determine the location of the sun by the horizon line!) and was dumbfounded.
  Like two narrowly set eyes, the luminaries of the sandy planet sparkled in the green sky. They looked surprisingly dangerous and carnivorous!
  Volka looked at them through the crack in his eyes and said:
  - I've seen this somewhere!
  But since the movie "Star Wars" didn't make much of an emphasis on what kind of double Sun Tatooine had, the boy just decided to go straight. Orienting himself towards the Yellow Stars!
  The desert is treacherous, and you can get lost in it. But if you look at the celestial landmarks, then you might end up somewhere.
  Volka decided to move at the most economical pace. It is not yet known when you will run into settlements or an oasis.
  The boy didn"t yet know that he had ended up on a very nasty planet, where it was possible to perish in a desert worse than the Sahara.
  But even so, the situation is unpleasant - the heat is unbearable, in the shade it is no less than 65 degrees, the sand is hot as a frying pan, under the child"s bare feet.
  Here Volka was sincerely grateful to his father, the great writer and therefore Oleg Rybachenko, for instilling in him a Spartan upbringing and hatred of shoes. If the boy's soles had not been hard and calloused, like a ram's horn, he would have definitely burned his feet in such a desert. But even for a seasoned boy it is not very comfortable to walk, it still burns, although muffled.
  However, Arab children run on sand that is only slightly colder than this, for many days, and do not get burned!
  And during the filming in December, in the Arabian desert it was also not much cooler. Although there is a difference! Here the double luminary gives more heat, and in general on this planet, only in one region the temperature is cooler, and sometimes there are even frosts at night.
  But in this case Volka was unlucky with the region. It's hot and there are gangsters in the area.
  The boy tried to distract himself from the burning of his heels. The desert was too monotonous. At least for now. You couldn't even see the dunes.
  The boy remembered one of the novels about time travelers. As a representative of the space civilization of color elves, he became a German ace pilot. The color elf looks like a very handsome young man with a girlish face and petal-like hair. But hair can be hidden! And so he found himself in the role of a German ace. He began fighting in October 1941 in the Mediterranean Sea.
  At first, despite his high efficiency, his exploits had no impact on the course of the Second World War. Until the plane carrying General Montgomery was shot down. The death of the most talented English commander led to the defeat of the British in the Battle of Egypt. To the uprising in Iraq and the entry of Rommel's troops there.
  Stalin, alarmed by the threat to his southern borders, especially Baku with its oil rigs, sent troops to Iraq. The leader of all times and nations also had concerns that the Germans would use Iraqi oil in the war.
  But by doing so he provoked Turkey, and a new, southern front opened.
  Of course, there were not enough forces to attack near Stalingrad, but Zhukov still began the Rzhev-Sychovsk operation on November 25, 1942. The battles dragged on for a long time. Even longer than in real history, where the Soviet command stopped the offensive on December 20 - when the priority of reinforcements was given to the southern flank. But on January 10, 1943, on this date the first book was interrupted, what a strange alternative - it was possible to achieve only a slight wedging into the German positions. Moreover, the losses of the Soviet side were five to six times greater than the German units.
  Frightened by the defeat in Egypt and Iraq, the British and Americans behaved passively and did not risk landing troops in Morocco. Even the bombings died down a bit.
  By January 10, 1943, the Elf Flower had shot down 1,010 enemy aircraft. At first, these were usually English and American, but from October 1942, Soviet aircraft appeared as well. In addition, it sank a cruiser, two frigates, three destroyers, and a couple dozen smaller naval targets. Plus more than one hundred and forty tanks and self-propelled guns. Moreover, in the last month, this magical vulture began to peck at Soviet vehicles on the Turkish front, and not just attack aircraft in the air.
  Fortunately, the latest model of the Focke-Wulf was a multi-purpose aircraft: a fighter, an attack aircraft, and a frontline bomber all at the same time!
  The bad guy, such a handsome man, began to fight for a criminal empire - it's so annoying to tears!
  And most importantly, he managed to really change the course of the war by calling into question its possible outcome!
  Not once was the alien from the world of the evil fairy tale hit, did not receive damage or injuries. He was protected by a talisman of the powerful magic of the color elves.
  For his exploits, the elf flower was awarded: all five degrees of the Knight's Cross, with the fifth being introduced especially for him, the Order of the German Eagle with Diamonds, the Luftwaffe gold cup with diamonds, and after the thousandth aircraft - the Grand Cross of the Iron Cross.
  In the Third Reich, such an award was only given to Hermann Goering, and was considered higher than all degrees of the Knight's Cross!
  And this is not counting numerous even smaller awards, including the Naval Order and the Tank Destroyer Cross!
  Recently, the elf flower has switched to a Focke-Wulf and has begun to attack ground targets more and more often!
  The Germans, as in real history, desperately stormed Stalingrad. By the end of November, they controlled about ninety percent of the city. In the Soviet divisions covering the citadel: 500-700 soldiers remained.
  But the Fritz lost up to half of its personnel and their units were bled dry. Taking advantage of the ice cover, the German command changed its tactics in December. And the attacks followed in narrow areas, with a large concentration of guns and air support.
  Thus, the Nazis managed to completely capture the Barrikady plant and almost all the other quarters of Stalingrad. But several dozen buildings, destroyed to the ground, still held out. Hitler declared the city captured on Christmas. Stalin gave the order to hold what was left of Stalingrad at any cost.
  Despite the ice and shelling, small groups of soldiers were transferred to Stalingrad, and a war of restraint was underway. In addition, in early January, the Soviet command resumed its offensive from the north of Stalingrad. But the Germans had managed to gain a solid foothold there.
  Both sides lacked reserves, but despite the enormous territorial losses and the opening of a second front by the Turks, the USSR continued to form combat reserves faster than the Third Reich, which is why the outcome of the war continued to remain unclear.
  Winter came to the Caucasus, snow covered the mountain passes and the battles froze like a rusty ice floe. The Fritzes were able to reach the Terek, dug in on the approaches to Grozny and Ordzhonikidze.
  There is also a lull near Leningrad. An offensive to unblock the city is not planned yet, as all reserves are thrown into a desperate attack in the center and the southern front.
  So far, the fascists, despite the fact that Zhukov is throwing more and more reserves into battle, are holding out. Mobel, nicknamed the "lion of defense", has been appointed commander. Zhukov, in turn, is also stubborn, and will press the enemy to the last soldier.
  In Iraq and northern Turkey, Soviet troops achieved tactical successes, but supply problems and stubborn resistance from numerous Arab and Turkish troops slowed the Red Army's advance.
  The book itself has a lot of humor, but overall it's cheap - although not typical. Usually the time traveler himself beats up the Germans.
  It's disgusting to read this, but there is intrigue. For example, will the flower-elf overcome the barrier of two thousand planes. And how will he be rewarded in this case?
  Volka started laughing... In the USSR there was an award: the Order of "Glory" of three degrees. But the fourth degree with diamonds did not appear. Only military leaders received the Order of "Victory". An unfortunate injustice.
  The intrigue here is that the further course of the war is unpredictable! How will the curve of history turn?
  Volka himself, frankly speaking, has no idea about this. You can invent endlessly!
  There was something similar in the series from the lion to the quark! But even there the outcome of the war was still not clear at all!
  The boy thought of something else - Darth Vader is an interesting gimmick. If this hero had remained alive, then the space saga could have been embodied in a virtuoso series!
  By the way, his brother Oleg Rybachenko managed to get the sequel to Star Wars. This mysterious seventh episode even before the epic was released... Alas - it unfortunately turned out to be much weaker than the previous episodes!
  If Vader had stayed alive - and the Emperor too - then things would have gotten worse!
  One can imagine a daring attack by aliens from the air! For example, Darth Vader starts dropping annihilation charges on ISIS positions. And then everything just goes up in flames....
  And Darth Vader will fire missiles, and now hundreds of kilometers of the earth are dead, scorched to the limit and lawlessness.
  Here from the womb of the winged battleships, nightmarish flying saucers begin to crawl out. The new weapon of the space empire. They glow with a cherry tint. The air sparkles. The suffocating smell of ozone spreads for thousands of kilometers.
  ISIS fighters, who have surrounded Damascus from all sides, are caught in the rays of hyperlasers erupting from disc aircraft. The mujahideen roar deafeningly in pain and turn into skeletons that sparkle like diamonds. And so they have turned into something valuable. These are hyperlasers, after all, and not some obsolete ammunition that Russian planes rained down on the warriors of Allah.
  So the protracted war begins to be extinguished in the most radical way. It is Darth Vader who is mercilessly bombing ISIS. And dropping fiery pieces of hyperplasm on them - flaming and burning blots!
  And then the space empire begins to drop landing modules and huge combat robots onto Syrian territory, shaking hundreds of hyperion and laser guns on each, threatening to melt and crush everything, to disperse it into photons across the entire galaxy. And from the roar of the robots - ten thousand tons each - both the planet's surface and atmosphere shudder. Broken glass flies out for many thousands of kilometers, and hyperplasma eruptions roar with tongues!
  No less dangerous are the clone warriors, who land in millions and squeal like a mosquito net! And from their shrill squeal there is no nook on Earth, not a single crack - where the warriors of Allah could hide.
  Or, for example, Darth Vader fights with swords against the mujahideen. There is a whole regiment against him. The enemy desperately and with a savage onslaught tries to overwhelm the black lord with numbers. The swings of the light sword force the advancing spirits to settle.
  And a mass, an incalculable mass of severed limbs and rotting corpses. A kind of coming of Satan with a good purpose!
  And here come the genies supporting ISIS. Hottabych's brother, the evil Omar.
  In his hands, Omar has a huge green lightsaber, and he is moving closer to Darth Vader!
  Both the genie and the black lord quickly crossed their swords and struck, causing sparks to fly.
  Omar starts babbling:
  - Trah-tibidok-tibidok!
  And Darth Vader, in response, roars through his mask:
  - May the force be with us!
  Volka didn't have time to finish his thought before it began... And adventures fell to his lot!
  . CHAPTER #5.
  Pavel Ivanovich Rybachenko sobered up a bit after sleeping. Now he had to decide what to do next. And his head ached from the hangover. Why not sleep some more, but only sober. And the young man started snoring:
  Oleg Rybachenko felt like the embodiment of the Japanese anime hero Naruto. The boy swung his leg and hit the main boss right in the chin with his shin. Of course, he shouted:
  - Kiya!
  A large teenager, the only one wearing bast shoes in this motley, barefoot company, gave up and plopped down on a pile of sawdust. A cloud of dust rose, and Oleg Rybachenko's next victim received a poke in the forehead, another boy was lucky enough to get a knee to the solar plexus.
  The boy marquis chuckled, putting a block under his fist, and blurted out a biting aphorism:
  - It"s not weak because it looks small, but weak because it"s beyond our ability to understand!
  After which he hit me on the neck with the edge of his palm.... That was the end of the fight, the three remaining naked men retreated and began to yell:
  - Mom! We won't do this again!
  Oleg Rybachenko nodded graciously:
  - Know your father!
  However, even after this skirmish the boy's status did not change. He still toiled at the construction site, but began to eat much better. Those relatives who fed other boys began to bring food to the newly-minted young boss. But Oleg Rybachenko shared his food with the hungry ones and, of course, Valentina.
  Well, the warrior girls Augustina and Marusya, while there is no war, remember and colorfully describe their previous, also very interesting and fabulous exploits;
  It was musty and damp inside, although a strong lamp was burning, giving off unpleasant ultraviolet light to the eyes. The room was spacious, apparently some kind of warehouse, although the forced ventilation was broken. True, there was only one prisoner from among the living people, however, as the girls figured out, why would the Arabs need more. It was a boy with an oriental, pretty face, but lighter skin than the Arabs, and his hair gave off a yellowish scattering on a black background - a raven suit in gold. Dressed in a torn robe and barefoot, he was shaking from the usual cold, and did not stand still. The chain that chained his neck jingled with every movement. It was obvious that he was a child from a good family, but from difficult life circumstances. The boy - apparently no older than fourteen, had lost a lot of weight and was tired to the point of stupefaction in prison.
  And in the cell there are also several skeletons, gnawed to a pearly glow, in chains that have not been removed.
  - Allah Akbar! - The bearded ranger girls greeted him. They had no reason to show their identities yet.
  - Allah Akbar! Faithful! - answered the captive, ragged, exhausted boy. - What country are you from?
  Augustina blurted out the first thing that came to her mind:
  - Saudi Arabia.
  The boy exclaimed joyfully, jingling his chains:
  - And the Saudis! It was you who were sent by my father to free his heir from captivity.
  Marusya, curious, asked carelessly:
  - And who is your father?
  There was a haughty note in the boy's voice:
  - You despised ones do not know Emir Suleiman ibn Omar! The great and terrible commander of the faithful!
  Know-it-all Augustina exclaimed joyfully:
  - I know him! The owner of a large fortune of twenty-four billion dollars. His first wife, Englishwoman Ellen, a blonde photo model.
  The boy happily yelped:
  - This is my mother!
  Augustina smacked her lips with pleasure:
  - I see that's why you look like a European.
  - I know English, French, Spanish, Chinese and Russian! - The boy, barely able to stand on his feet, tried to give his ringing voice a semblance of a lion's roar. - These are the countries we will have to fight with first.
  - We also know many languages! And not only of the countries of the potential enemy! - Augustina, restless in her vanity, blurted out without thinking, wanting to boast.
  The young prince became wary:
  - And why do you, simple soldiers, need this?
  Marusya answered for her:
  - We are not just standard warriors, but the elite of the Islamic special forces. Not all Israel can gain the upper hand over us. To defeat an infidel, you need wisdom and knowledge from a true believer!
  The boy already smiled affably and waved his hand in the chain, the ringing of metal mixed with his words:
  - That's right! There are only two of you, and you scattered everyone like kittens!
  Augustina snorted contemptuously:
  - Yes! And no more is needed!
  The boy shook the chain again and winced in pain, his ankles chafed against the steel rings, and the boy's voice sounded more pitiful than menacing:
  - Free me! I came from the Emirates specifically to fight Russia on the side of the legendary Black Sultan.
  "Why not with the USA?" Marusya asked with feigned surprise and shrugged her shoulders; the skin on her back began to itch from the mujahideen"s not-so-clean clothes.
  The boy apparently had caught on to his favorite hobbyhorse and was therefore speaking in Arabic with inspiration:
  - The United States of America are rotting and decaying. The democratic form of government is ruining them. In twenty or thirty years, there will be no great America. Russia, on the contrary, is a viable country. It is becoming stronger every year, and Orthodoxy is dangerously expanding into the Islamic world. It is better to break the back of a young wolf, the old jackal will die anyway.
  - Yes, the US is weakening right before our eyes! - Agreed, with difficulty holding back Augustine's giggles. - And terrorist attacks against America only push the fragmented Western society towards consolidation. In particular, Europe is already half ours. In twenty or thirty years, it will become orthodox. We will get a majority in their parliaments and introduce Islamic order. And terrorism is only capable of slowing down the settlement of these lands.
  The boy puffed himself up, trying to push out his emaciated, bony chest, visible through his rags:
  - Exactly! I am only twelve years old, and in thirty years, I will be a sheikh full of strength, observing the worldwide triumph of Islam. But there is a threat, it is Orthodoxy! Here, it seems that priests are stronger than Catholics, but such is its power that many nations are under the influence of the eight-pointed cross. But in fact, it is a mixture of Judaism and paganism.
  Marusya wanted to object firmly and eruditely, but she couldn't show her emotions. And in general, she was a supporter of the peaceful coexistence of all religions. After all, Islam and the Koran preach goodness. As Mohammed said: if you forgive your enemy and humble yourself, you will be exalted by Allah! Of course, there are much more militant expressions in the suras, but this is not worth focusing on. Jesus also said: I did not bring peace, but a sword! Although Christ did not mean propaganda, violence! But in the scriptures, the lawless will find everything for their own destruction. So the prince probably read a lot of religious and very aggressive literature!
  Augustina, with genuine pathos and spreading her legs in a boxing stance, said:
  - I will preach with a machine gun and bless with a strong treat from a grenade launcher!
  Marusya confirmed:
  - Me too! And anyway, we got to talking: we need to free the young fighter from his chains.
  The ranger girl jumped up slightly and with one blow of her dagger ripped the chain apart, took the collar in her hands and pressed, the shackles came apart like plasticine.
  - So simple! - The august boy prince was surprised. - You have excellent skills.
  Marusya demonstrated that she, too, is capable of growling:
  -There is nothing more important for a man than the art of war - it is a synonym for a worthy existence! The death of a tiger is better than a dog's life! Life is not a dog's life, because it is not life, but worse than non-existence!
  The boy also giggled and, wrapping his blue and frozen legs in scraps of cellophane, squealed:
  - Reasonable! I see you are wise people... - And in a more important tone the emir's heir in rags added: - But I haven't introduced myself to you as Prince Khattab ibn Suleiman.
  Marusya even squealed in surprise:
  - Your name is Khattab!?
  The boy sang in a singsong voice:
  - In honor of the hero of the Caucasian jihad. And as the son of the emir, I am a prince. - The thin kiss burst at the first step, causing the dignitary in rags to gasp. The boy blushed shamefully and muttered embarrassedly. - And my uniform should be here somewhere, I look like a beggar. And it's very cold anyway.
  The prince scraped the blue bare foot of the most ordinary beggar boy on the floor.
  Marusya smiled indulgently. On the one hand, the boy was an enemy of her Motherland, on the other, his facial features softened by European blood turned out to be quite pleasant. Even his hair was not pitch-black, but slightly curly, golden-reddish. Marusya wondered if she could, if Russia's interests demanded, kill the child. In that same Chechnya, a boy of about ten years old was quite capable of planting a mine, or even blowing himself up along with Russian soldiers. But the blonde cherub extended a hand of friendship to the little prince.
  They got out of the "dungeon". They walked around the room, looked into the closets.
  "Are the clothes expensive?" asked the tough and at the same time selfish Augustina, blinking nervously.
  The boy prince said boastfully:
  - Together with the stones it's worth a million bucks!
  The red-haired devil's eyes blazed like scarlet lights:
  - When were you captured?
  The prince automatically replied:
  - About five days ago! - But looking at the electronic date on the dial, he corrected himself. - Or maybe seven already.
  - So, they haven't managed to implement it yet! We need to look in the hiding place. - The quick-witted Augustina noted.
  - Or in the "skhon"! - Marusya confirmed. - Yes, their cache is most likely somewhere on the hill.
  - We'll find it! They won't hide weapons too far from the lair. Besides, look! - Augustina took out a crumpled map in one movement. - It was in the leader's pockets, probably so he wouldn't forget after the orgy, he marked the cache.
  The map had a lot of things written clumsily, it was covered in ink and oil stains, pieces of fat, and spilled cognac.
  The red-haired devil was indignant:
  - What a pig of a leader! It's a pity we didn't take him prisoner alive to "wash him out".
  The boy Khattab nodded approvingly, then picked up the dropped dagger and threw it at the wall. It sank deep, right into the petal of a wooden flower.
  "Can you do that?" he asked Marusya.
  - A dagger may not always be at hand! A bottle shard is much more practical! - The ranger girl, deftly twisting a piece of ordinary bottle glass, drove it deep into the board, and even pierced a hybrid of a horned tick and a centipede.
  The boy pretended to wince and said unconvincingly in a deep voice:
  - Can you be more precise?
  The cherub warrior winked:
  - Please! Where to go?
  The prince pointed his fingers towards the annoying insect:
  - Here's a fly!
  - It's a difficult task, but I'll try. - The ranger girl mentally estimated the distance, then tried to feel herself as part of the shard. Imagining that it was her finger, she had to poke it right into the fly's ear! The glass flew silently, crashing into the very center of the insect.
  - Amazing! Even Saul couldn't do that. - Said the boy of royal blood.
  Augustina asked, rather affirmatively than questioningly:
  - Is this your father's chief of bodyguards?
  - Yes! It was him! You are quite smart! - Irritation and genuine annoyance were heard in the ringing boyish voice. - And why didn't you shave your beards and adopt a European appearance? You can tell they are mujahideen right away.
  Augustina made a sly face:
  - Exactly! The arrival of respectable Europeans will be too noticeable, and there have been many true believers arriving lately. So we'll show up without suspicion.
  - Probably! As the Russians say: the best way to disguise Santa Claus is to glue his beard on the back. - The boy prince giggled very childishly.
  - I found a cache, it's only a kilometer from here! - Augustina declared in all seriousness.
  The three of them left the torn-up room. There were a couple of rocky hills on their way. On one side, it was good, anomalies were less common on them, but on the other side, you couldn't drive a Jaguar.
  Marusya noted analytically:
  - Still, the bandits are not very smart. It will be difficult for them to deliver weapons here.
  Augustina shouted irritably:
  - Let's go faster!
  Two female warrior rangers and a boy heir set off running across the hills. The prince was still wearing only a tattered prison uniform and was barefoot, disdaining to put on his trophy boots. He was shaking from the cold, and the boy ran with all his might - he really wanted to warm up and stretch his legs after the pit. It was also surprising that he didn't catch a cold. However, in the zone you could freeze and get icy, but colds and viruses, as a rule, did not stick. On the contrary, the same flu passed almost immediately. There were even projects to build sanatoriums. So radiation and gravoradiation, on the one hand, crippled, and on the other, healed!
  They ran along the steep slopes, the ranger girls did not try very hard, they deliberately slowed down so that the prince would not fall behind. A couple of times his highness scratched his bare feet on the stones, even blood appeared, but he did not show it. When they were approaching the "skhon", suddenly two snakes jumped out from under the cobblestones. They jumped on the boy, almost stinging his bare scratched heel.
  The ranger girls threw their daggers in unison, detaching their heads. The snakes weren't particularly big, about the size of vipers, with yellow spots, but they were very dangerous. Their poison turned the body into jelly, and you could scoop it up with spoons.
  - Watch your step, blockhead! - said the angry know-it-all Augustina. - They're capable of knocking down an elephant!
  The boy prince grimaced with disdain:
  - These?
  The red devil hissed like a cobra:
  - A changed viper! It turns a person into a corpse, and even causes pain.
  The prince tried to frown:
  - For a mujahideen, pain is a useful test!
  Augustina said eloquently:
  - Death in war is justified only when the enemy buys it at an excessive price, and giving gifts to the enemy is tantamount to treason.
  The door at the entrance to the cache is well camouflaged, seemingly a simple stone.
  "We need to disarm the tripwire," Marusya said, involuntarily scratching her muscular back, which was itching from the rough Arab robe.
  - We see now, we'll cut it. - She answered with irritation, to Augustine's unnecessary hint.
  The ranger girls worked efficiently, cutting the wire very deftly. After some manipulation, the door gave way, and the mutant scouts slipped inside.
  The cache turned out to be quite rich: RPG-9, RPG-29, capable of penetrating tank armor, "flies", some small arms, the same "abakans". There were even a couple of "arrows", though in a makeshift form. Overall, the arsenal was decent and there was a lot of ammunition.
  Among the newest grenades with microscopic additions of artifacts - FU-12 there are quite a large number.
  - Mm-yes! - It looks like this gang has connections at the top, - Marusya suggested, quite pleased.
  - Many have! - Augustina answered as if it were self-evident and even demonstratively opened her mouth.
  Marusya spread her hands helplessly:
  - So what are we going to do now?
  Augustina confirmed in a tragic tone:
  - Difficulties! - The red-haired devil giggled nervously. - We can't take that much!
  - Let's close the cache and leave it in place for now. It's not urgent for us! - Marusya declared with unexpected composure.
  - And that's true! We will soon win, and this weapon will be ours. - Confirmed the boy prince Khattab.
  Augustina threw the spotted, slightly rusted tile away, and it fell with a crash, and the warrior-devil barked:
  - Let us look through the boxes, maybe we'll find something valuable.
  As a result of a more detailed inspection, they found a box with stolen goods, junk. Various rags.
  Among them were the prince's clothes, including diamond-studded boots with platinum horseshoes. Having put on the robes, Khattab acquired a royal appearance!
  The boy, tapping his boot heels and propping up his sides like a caricatured boyar, roared:
  - Now I'll move in like a king! You'll accompany me like a guard.
  Augustina asked incredulously:
  - Didn't you have security?
  The boy, with unnatural joy, baring his pearl-colored teeth, cooed:
  - She was! But they poisoned her! Or maybe they put her to sleep and then cut off her heads. You can't get anything from them, but they wanted to rip me off for one hundred and fifty million real dollars.
  Augustina, not hiding her contempt, burst out laughing:
  - Cool! As the Russians say: a big spoon tears your mouth, but a small one tears your stomach with a hungry ulcer!
  The little prince was seriously offended and shook his fists:
  - It's not that much, especially considering that the dollar is falling and oil is getting more expensive. - The boy grabbed a dagger and demonstratively drew it across his throat, roaring. - Or do you value me so little?
  Augustina answered with an emphasized coldness in her voice:
  - Everything depends on the contribution to the cause of jihad. And in this matter, everyone is equal before Allah!
  The prince, despite his teenage years, realized that arguing was useless and stupid, and suggested in a businesslike manner:
  - So, in short, we"ll drive to the nearest town, and there they"ll tell us where to look for the Black Sultan.
  Augustina, skillfully hiding the joy that filled her heart, outwardly remarked incredulously:
  - As if they know!
  He answered the boy in a not entirely confident tone:
  - The Sultan has his own scouts. They will meet us.
  The calculating devil warrior Augustina thought about it in her head: even terrorists need tough guys. And in general, it would be quite Hollywood-like to commit a crime and infiltrate a gang. Maria also agreed. She remembered the words of the FSB director, spoken very emotionally.
  - It doesn't matter how many people you kill, even if our agents are among them. - The Colonel General emphasized this especially harshly. - The main thing is to get to this degenerate.
  Augustina extended her hand to the heir:
  - Well, our wishes coincide! Let's protect the prince.
  The boy of august blood boasted frivolously:
  - When we take the capital of the infidels, we will organize the Moscow Caliphate. I will make you my sheikhs, and give you a province for private ownership.
  Marusya hastened to pretend to be very interested:
  - With oil and gas!
  - If you fight well, then yes! - The boy-heir began to chatter, like an alarm clock with a siren and a Beethoven composition. - In general, there is more oil in Siberia than in the Persian Gulf. The Russians are increasing oil production and knocking down prices. This is one of the reasons why Bin Laden was wrong. If America is left without oil, it will rebel and split. True, it is very cold in Siberia in winter, I can"t imagine how the Russians stand it. - The prince"s hands began to tremble again. - I was subjected to cold torture.
  Augustina burst into golden-voiced laughter:
  - It"s not that bad, and while Siberia is freezing, the climate on Earth is warming and it will be easy for us to develop it.
  The boy heir was very pleased with this prospect:
  - Well, that's great! There won't be any more cold. - The boy pointed to the left. Now let's run.
  The prince walked on the lighter, and the ranger girls with the heavy load. Having covered the cache with grass and branches, they rushed after the "royal" person.
  - It's all going too smoothly! - Augustina noted, not trusting reality a little. - We dealt with the gang so playfully. And then the prince arrived, just like in a fairy tale.
  Marusya crossed herself secretly from the prince and whispered:
  - Help from higher powers!
  However, an unpleasant surprise awaited the ranger girls at the car. Attracted by fresh corpses, five mutant bloodsuckers dragged themselves in. They resembled characters from horror films, with squirming jaws consisting of individual joints, hexagonal noses, and three sparkling eyes. According to a scientific hypothesis, rat genes combined with insect chromosomes, which is how such an abomination arose. However, no one knows for sure, it is known for sure that bloodsuckers have phenomenal vitality. The absence of a brain in the normal biological sense makes them difficult to defeat. The most vile thing is that the method of their destruction is not scientifically verified, so the ranger scouts will have to fight practically blind.
  The prince grabbed a Bars pistol he had grabbed from the warehouse, an evolution of the Colt .45 with less recoil and greater accuracy, and fired into the bloodsucker's eye. True, he missed by a bit, but it was clear he had shooting skills. The creature rushed at the prince, who opened fire, the bullets pierced the body and slightly delayed the enemy. Holes appeared in the chitinous cover, poisonous green blood splashed. The ranger girls also opened fire to kill. They shot from their usual Kalashnikovs.
  The mutant ghouls, receiving lead gifts, did not even think of stopping. Then the mutant scouts used their elongated daggers, with a laser sharpening capable of cutting through tank armor. They managed to rip apart several thugs, cut off limbs. However, the tentacles of the bloodsuckers, even separated from the body, continued to scurry.
  - Spawn of Satan! - Marusya shouted, seriously enraged by the creatures.
  - Turn them into shavings! - suggested Augustine, barely managing to fight off the onslaught.
  The ranger girls, covering the prince, went forward. Of course, they didn't like the aggressive boy dignitary, but this was the only hope for getting to the undercover sultan. Especially since the zone was large and had a tendency to grow.
  The boy prince drew his sabre. It might not be as effective as a molecularly honed dagger, but it was still the famous Damascus steel.
  He chopped quite skillfully, apparently trained by the best teachers, but still an adult professional fencer would have put him down without any doubt. However, most soldiers, even special forces, are not trained in swordsmanship.
  Augustina expressed genuine delight:
  - You're a good guy! Not a sissy! - The red-haired devil squinted. - Is everyone like that in your family?
  The prince answered loudly:
  - Not all! The older brother became a computer rat and is fond of the games of the infidels.
  Augustine responded to this very subtly:
  - Well, you need to know your enemies' weapons. - Having cut off another limb, the disguised girl added, with a very apt aphorism. A reconnoitered enemy is almost defeated, you just need to not throw your chances to the wind!
  The ranger girls chopped down the ghouls with colossal enthusiasm. They were dexterous, but the mutant scouts were even more dexterous. They knocked out the breath of the overly frisky bloodsucker with kicks. Finally, when the body turns into garbage, even the ghoul quiets down. True, the worms begin to crawl away.
  The evil boy prince was bitten, however, and his arm immediately swelled up to the elbow.
  - Wow! This is dangerous! - Let's leave Augustine to finish off the last ghoul, Marusya quickly sucked out the poisoned blood, spitting feverishly. She injected a universal antidote. The boy prince was twisted, but he came to his senses rather quickly.
  - The poison didn't have time to penetrate deeply, you'll survive! - Marusya said confidently, smiling with her large, pearly teeth. The boy suddenly felt suspicious - his teeth were too white.
  The prince asked with strong suspicion in his voice:
  - Do you clean well?
  Marusya, grinning even more, answered:
  - Of course! It's not for nothing that all horses and slaves, especially female slaves, were checked by their teeth.
  The boy blurted out sincerely:
  - That's right! I don't like it when there's rot in my mouth.
  The bloodsuckers fell silent, they only managed to scratch the clothes.
  - Now let's go to the Orlan base, - Augustina suggested, irritated by the protracted skirmish.
  The boy prince was slightly doubtful:
  - Where the farters hang out!? In general, you can find the right person there who will show us the way to the Sultan.
  - Better on foot! - said Marusya. - The Jaguar will attract too much attention.
  Augustina readily agreed:
  - The last thing I need is to get into a shootout with the locals. The car is cool, they can even shoot you for it! And it could be stolen, and it's stupid to give gifts like that!
  - Then mine it! - suggested the boy prince.
  Marusya tried to object logically:
  - If we blow it up, it won't compensate us for our losses.
  The young dignitary blurted out with pathos:
  - But there will be corpses of infidels. The corpse of an enemy is expensive, but alive he will still cost more!
  Augustina again showed her wit:
  - Secrecy is the quality of a winner!
  The boy even grew taller with pride:
  - It is not worthy of a prince to walk! And anyway, there is a concept of pride.
  Augustina curled her lips in disbelief, and the boy continued.
  The real mujahideen will not hide such a valuable trophy, taken from the infidels, - declared the prince.
  . CHAPTER #7.
  Captain Lion woke up again, his head splitting as if it were being hit with wooden sticks. He drank again and fell into a heavy sleep again:
  Alenka, taking advantage of the fact that there is a truce on the front lines, is writing her wonderful novel, or even a whole series of novels based on AI, and she is doing it successfully.
  Barefoot and wearing only a bikini, Maria shoots at the enemy. For the first time in a long time, she misses, or rather
  Sakai senses her shot and, shifting his car, moves slightly to the right. And then he hits her himself. Barefoot Maria growls in response:
  - You're narrow-eyed... - And she barely manages to leave herself. Well, she's not too pleased about that!
  And the enemy continues to press, trying to hook. The girl fires back and again deftly avoids with a deflection. A cry is heard:
  - Banzai! You'll be screwed, Russia!
  Barefoot Mary replied:
  - But you miss, puncher. You won't escape retribution!
  Sakai just giggles maliciously and performs the maneuver again, opening fire. The pilot sees that the Japanese is not too used to flying a recently released fighter. Before this, there were no such cool machines, both in terms of armament and speed.
  The girl becomes calmer, her bare, girlish soles feel both the roughness of the pedals and the vibration of the car. She does not respond, trying to catch the rhythm. The Japanese begins to reduce the distance to kill for sure. He is confident in himself. How many powerful machines have been destroyed, and what is some girl to him? True, stubborn, fast, capable of deflecting destructive shells.
  Sakai shoots again. Barefoot Maria intuitively almost with the help of her stomach, wriggling away. And she holds back from answering.
  The Japanese ace chuckles:
  - What about Russia, are you probably out of ammo?
  Barefoot Maria does not answer, but pretends to be scared and tries to escape pursuit. Well, the Japanese man rushes after her. Shots follow again...
  Samurai is a special mentality and state of mind. Such a warrior thinks least of all about his own survival. Maybe that is why the Air Force of the Land of the Rising Sun lost so many experienced and best aces from the very beginning of the war against the Americans? After all, the Yankees primarily set such a quality as survival as an example. Sakai went through the Second World War almost to the end, thus showing a dangerous exception.
  His mighty jet plane hovers like a predator, almost right next to the smaller Il-2, machine guns crackle and bullets hit the skin...
  But in the excitement of the chase, Sakai forgot about his own safety, and barefoot Maria sensed it. Two guns simultaneously sent 37-millimeter shells with a high initial velocity almost point-blank into the belly of the monster. Fortunately, the newest Soviet guns could easily rotate - once and turn around. And the Japanese monster, somewhat modernized after the German model, with swept wings, giving the fighter a resemblance to a predator, falls apart. And the proud Sakai, as befits a samurai, refused to install an ejection system in the machine.
  The IL-2, which the barefoot Maria flew so successfully, was seriously damaged. The female warrior pilot barely made it to the shore, and then was forced to land right on the sand. Having climbed out of the cockpit, the girl reported her accident and success on the radio, after which she plopped down into the cool sea surface. She needed to refresh herself and relieve tension. The water at the end of August is wonderful, even though summer is ending. The last thing we can hope for is probably the military summer. But the attitude to the imminent end of the war is complicated. What to do in peacetime and what to do? Although, of course, the best ace of the USSR during the Second World War has a good future ahead. Huffman was much less lucky, he is in a prisoner of war camp and will most likely receive a decent prison term, although it is not fair to put a soldier in a labor camp. Somehow it is not customary in civilized countries to punish and bring to justice those who honestly fulfilled their military duty. Well, maybe he even performed it too well...
  Half-naked Maria splashed in the warm varnished waters, imagining that it was her lover's hands stroking her shapely, un-girlishly strong body. Light erotic fantasies arose. How her breasts were showered with passionate kisses...
  And in the lower abdomen, as if hundreds of rough little sides were tickling the moistened grotto of Venus... How good it is to be blissful and dream like this...
  But then help arrived on the radio, a seaplane with two pilots on board. They picked up the barefoot Maria. The girl pretended that she had no strength. Then the young and strong man picked up the pilot in his arms and carried her to the fuselage. He lingered near the beautiful girl in an American, painted bikini. As soon as the plane took off, the girl suddenly came to life, and pulling the pilot to her, they began to kiss his bristly cheeks. Then she exposed her nipples, shoving them into the dumbfounded man's face. She whispered: "Kiss, kiss harder." It was as if a demon had entered the beautiful Maria, the ancient Eve, who had exchanged paradise for carnal love, had awakened...
  Meanwhile, the Soviet troops captured the last forts of Port Arthur. The Japanese completely lost the rest of their minds. They rushed into counterattacks, right under machine gun and automatic fire, littering all approaches and streets with corpses, although they could have drawn out the resistance by going over to a deaf defense.
  The feet of Alenka, her charming and creepy partner, the fiery Alla, as well as other female snipers, left beautiful, pinkish, bloody marks with an elegant barefoot pattern.
  The girls were already fed up with the sight of blood and had hardly slept for the last three weeks.
  But they had to withstand a desperate attempt by Japanese divisions to regain control of the lost city. Tankettes went on the attack, followed by light tanks, then infantry...
  The troops of the Land of the Rising Sun marched, lined up in orderly ranks, to the beat of hundreds of drums. The officers had specially put on their dress uniforms and hung not only all the real, but also fake awards. And the command staff was largely false, the ordinary soldiers changed into magnificent uniforms. Here the calculation was based on the fact that the abundance of orders, and so the mass of officers would make an overwhelming impression on the psyche of the defenders who had settled in the city-fortress.
  But it is unclear how the Japanese could count on suppression in such a primitive way. Break the morale of the Soviet army, hardened in battles?
  The girls and other warriors, not at all embarrassed, met the enemy with powerful fire, and Ilyushin ...
  In response, Japanese fighters and attack aircraft scrambled. They raced to meet the Soviet machines. A dense head-on battle began. And again, it was the Zeros.
  From the victorious Peru Harbor to the last tragic, agony-like battles to repel the American B-29 raids on Japan, this fighter distinguished itself.
  Taking advantage of its weak armor protection, Alenka shot down the first vehicle at a great distance, noting:
  - It's simpler than "Salamander".
  Barefoot Alla answered sarcastically:
  - But the "Salamanders" are the product of Aryan science. - And in turn the girl mowed down the next plane with one large incendiary bullet.
  Alenka giggled softly, hitting the mark again:
  - How is samurai science worse than Aryan science?
  Barefoot Alla responded logically, also hitting her target and marveling at her increased accuracy:
  - The fact that their own developments, although not bad, were hopelessly outdated, and the rest was simply ripped off from the fascists!
  Alenka remembered interesting details about this car.
  The legendary Mitsubishi A6M Reizei fighter (short for "Reishiki Zentoki" - "Zero Fighter") participated in almost all air battles of the Second World War, conducted by the Imperial Navy. In principle, the machine is not so bad to laugh at. During the battle at Khalkhin Gol, the samurai came out on top in the number of aircraft shot down over the Russians. Its excellent maneuverability and long range have become almost a legend, and apparently for a long time the "Zero" will remain a symbol of Japanese aviation. Its world fame was won in the first battles in the Pacific Ocean, when for six months it did not know serious resistance. But during the Second World War, usually such inventive Japanese, unlike the Americans who were constantly improving their technology, failed. They simply could not provide it with a worthy replacement - a fighter capable of surpassing the enemy in speed, armament and survivability. Here, a certain weakness of the material and technical base of Japan failed, and, strangely enough, or rather, naturally, the conservatism of the military, which was very cool to possible changes in armament. And, starting from the end of 1942, when new American aircraft began to enter service, it became increasingly difficult for the A6M to bear its cross of battles. Despite the fact that after 1943 the fighter was clearly outdated, the Japanese, apparently they had no other choice, continued to produce the "workhorse" until the end of the war. As a result, the "Reisen" became the most mass-produced Japanese aircraft and one of the most widespread fighters in the world.
  The sniper girls were not at all embarrassed by this track record of the machine. If you're going to hit, you have to hit.
  Here are the Soviet machines fighting quite confidently, counterattacking. In particular, the Yak-11. Also a pretty good machine. Although maybe for Japan it would not be so scary in some cases.
  Barefoot Alla, shooting at the enemy, noted with a sigh:
  - You think, the war will end, and then what? Get married, and then have children and live with a man? Brrr! It's disgusting to even imagine such a thing!
  Alenka objected:
  - Why don't you try it... Maybe it won't be so bad?
  Barefoot Alla laughed thinly:
  - Try it? Sounds tempting.
  The Japanese fighters fought desperately, not retreating until they were all killed. But the tanks were a bit of a challenge. They were met with well-aimed shots from grenade launchers, bazookas, and even captured panzerfausts. And the infantry was also mown down flawlessly.
  Alenka was slightly hit by a piece of shrapnel on the edge, the Japanese machine hit her with a more successful shell, and several Soviet soldiers were completely killed. However, the snow-white warrior was not the least bit embarrassed and growled:
  - Get out of here, samurai! - She started shooting even more often.
  Barefoot Alla also added here:
  - Tin cuttlefish, go to hell!
  And both girls clapped their feet as if they were clapping their hands. And the samurai kept climbing and climbing. Machine gun self-propelled guns and Soviet tank destroyers came into play. For example, even a 76-millimeter caliber is quite enough to pierce these Japanese tankettes.
  And then bare your fangs.
  Alenka noted:
  - It's strange that the Japanese never developed strong tanks. This is their great weakness. The samurai may not even realize it!
  Barefoot Alla agreed:
  - Of course, weakness, but... Everything in our world bears the imprint of weakness and decay. Alas, absolutely everything!
  Alenka, smacking her lips, logically objected:
  - Except, of course, ourselves!
  Barefoot Alla took the joke for the truth:
  - It's more than true! You and I are perfect!
  Then the snow-white, angel-like warrior declared:
  - Maybe the emperor himself is there, we"ll take him prisoner?
  Barefoot Alla growled fiercely:
  - If necessary, Hirohito will be captured.
  The fiery devil was also wounded, a splinter cut her hardened foot quite deeply, but the girl only laughed in response.
  Alenka noted with a shudder:
  - These bastards are coming at us, and where does it all come from? The Germans didn't carry out such suicidal psychological attacks!
  Barefoot Alla consoled her friend:
  - Don't be afraid! The freaks will bleed to death anyway!
  Behind the warriors, the clear, cheerful voice of Maksimka was heard. The boy sang with inspiration. His voice inspired with its power and purity to feats;
  I walk through life with a smile,
  Our party gives me strength!
  A star was placed above the Kremlin,
  What a people has lit up for centuries!
  
  And the gloomy darkness will disperse,
  And don"t lie that our spirit has gone out!
  Labor is sacred in factories and fields,
  I forge a plough from steel for the peasants!
  
  In the vault of the sky there is an azure expanse,
  This is the region where I was born and raised!
  I want to embrace my land,
  And breathe in the fresh scent of birch trees!
  
  There is a bright path to communism,
  Even if there are obstacles, there is an ocean of locusts!
  You need to clasp your hands tighter,
  The peoples of all countries will be together!
  
  And I still have a dream,
  So that the beautiful maiden falls in love!
  So that we can saddle a horse together,
  So that the grave does not captivate us!
  
  Together we will move mountains,
  What do we care about the machinations of the fascist bastards!
  Our homeland provided us with a sword,
  Among wolves, peace must not be fragile!
  
  Here is my beloved, I cast a glance,
  We locked lips passionately!
  Heat in the hearts, like a blazing fire,
  The enemy will not trample passion under his boots!
  
  We are not children, we matured in battles,
  The steel was tempered in the furnace of hell!
  We don't want to be in second place,
  We don't need a quieter place!
  
  With my sweetheart we step forward,
  We defeat the invaders with flying colors!
  So we reached the sea and took off,
  Flying like birds over the reef!
  
  Yes, they entrusted the steering wheel to the young,
  The boy became a red ace pilot!
  And the fascists were swept away like a whirlwind,
  Destroying the brown ones at once!
  
  I got there together with my girlfriend,
  To the Nazi stronghold of Berlin!
  My children will be happy,
  Our army is invincible!
  At the final words, the last knocked out tanks of the stunned enemy stopped. Well, mowing down the infantry was not the most difficult task. The Japanese continued to push on, and Alenka with a sweet smile noted the gods of goodness:
  - Maksimka is a man with great talent as a singer and composer. Maybe he should come up with a new anthem for the Soviet state?
  Barefoot Alla shook her head skeptically:
  - They wouldn't trust a child with something like that. You understand that yourself. Although nothing is impossible in our world...
  Alenka, shooting at the enemies, added:
  - Of course not!
  The samurai attack finally fizzled out, and night fell. The girls fell asleep warmly right in the trench. Alenka dreamed of something terrible, connected with the previous battle with the fascists, but in tanks. But Snow White did not have to be a tanker, and the fiery Alla, which is completely similar to a miracle, saw the same dream with her partner;
  The warrior was again struck by the inertia of the iron, the enemy shell spat out of the gun's muzzle and ricocheted off the turret, streamlined like a pike's nose. Alenka greedily kissed barefoot Alla's shoulder blade with her forehead, when the triumphant cry of the glamorous gunner was heard in the headphones. Without firing, the Soviet self-propelled gun jerked, a bit heavily with a diesel engine, always like that, accelerating from a standstill. With a sinking heart, barefoot Alla turned to the left. Thank God (in whom the fiery devil did not believe!). And that pilot (what the hell is she doing in a tank), this golden-haired Maria was unharmed, which meant the German had not shot at her.
  Oh, what's wrong with you? In love! With whom? With Marinka...
  The blonde jumped out of the open hatch of the tower and showed her finger up:
  - Victory!
  They passed ten meters from the burning "Yagdbear" or maybe "Yagdgrizzly", barefoot Alla could not remember the real name of this miracle of engineering. Cool Maria, what a bitch, bared her right breastbone on the move, flashing her ruby nipple. Like, know ours! One hundred and five millimeters with an initial projectile velocity of 1120 meters per second. These terrible hooks of the "machine-beast" managed to pierce its snout at the very base of the cabin. And also having hit well from the side of the gun, leaving a gorgeous hole from which tongues of flame were now escaping. The swift-footed girls running after them began to do somersaults and spin around with joy. Here one of the most frisky jumped into the flames, and was clearly stunned by the fact that the fire licked her pink, girlish heels.
  Barefoot Alla barked:
  - Be careful, you devils! The ammunition might explode so much that you won't even be able to collect your bones!
  The battery rolled over the hill like a wave, breaking out onto a plain intersected by lines of trenches and antitank obstacles, densely plowed just like the previous, long-suffering kilometer. Several short-nosed armored vehicles were burning here and there, but the tank brigade shot up the remaining points and moved forward at high speed. With its heavy cavalcade, following the thick row of exploding shells rolling west. The balls of barbed wire, which the barriers had turned into, reached the height of a man. The girls' flushed bare feet were cut by the barbed wire, but the warriors did not stop running for a second. Although some had already begun to limp. The torn craters were located so close to each other that they had to be jumped over in order not to completely stray from the general course.
  Barefoot Alla jokingly shouted:
  - March! March! Left, left! Tighten the tracks, raise the turrets!
  Playful golden-haired Maria supported:
  - He who is not a fighter will not survive! An inglorious end will come for them!
  The warrior urged the regiment on, trying to keep the distance from the tank girls. Even whistling. To the right, there was a loud clicking sound on the armor, some idiot was firing a machine gun. Vedmakova didn't even waste shells and time on him. The tracks simply drove over the Germans, squeezing out their guts and grinding their bones. Natasha sang:
  - Bones, stars suddenly got into a row! Squeeze the machine gun in your fists tighter!
  . CHAPTER #8.
  When Daria finished singing, Vaska answered her:
  - Yes, you have a wonderful voice, and beautiful words! But at the same time, patriotism alone will not suffice. Tell me how the war went on in your world.
  The girl, who was not very comfortable sitting on the bony shoulders of a thin, but very sinewy and hardy boy, answered:
  - As I have already said, the Kursk Bulge marked the end of the radical turning point in the Second World War. The Allies intensified the bombing of Germany and the territories it controlled. At the same time, the landing in Italy began. With the help of Western intelligence services, a military coup was inspired, during which Mussolini was arrested. The king returned to power and declared war on Germany. There, the Germans lost their most important and powerful ally.
  Vaska interrupted Daria:
  - It's beautiful! So, Hitler lost Italy. And then what?
  The girl said with some regret:
  - The Italian army, however, turned out to be ineffective. The Nazis quickly routed it, but significant forces were diverted from the eastern front. The Soviet army was advancing in Ukraine, and quite successfully, the baton was picked up by the central front. The fascists, not wanting to give up left-bank Ukraine, delayed their retreat beyond the Dnieper, which allowed them to force this water barrier in several places before the frosts. Kyiv was taken almost without a fight. For some reason, the Germans did not cover this city with a large garrison. Developing their success, the Soviet troops also captured Zhitomir and Vinnitsa, but came under another flank counterattack by Meinstein. The Germans even managed to recapture Kyiv for a short time, but not for long, the USSR had enough reserves!
  Vaska muttered discontentedly:
  - This Meinstein! All the troubles come from him! By the way, maybe you can say something new about German technology. Have they got any new machine guns?
  Daria shrugged:
  - I have heard about the powerful German MP-44 machine gun, but I don't remember the exact characteristics. I emphasize once again - I am a girl, not a military expert! The MP-44 was the best machine gun in the world at the time of its appearance, but I don't know any technical details! And what exactly it was better at, and by how much!
  Vaska noticed:
  - Well, I would probably also have difficulty if I tried to explain to Ivan the Terrible the structure of a tank! And even more so the airplane... That's dialectic! And how did this machine gun influence the course of the war?
  Daria answered cheerfully:
  - No way! Because they were put into production too late, and also because of the Allied air force bombings, they produced only a few of these machine guns. So the Germans blew us away, having better equipment, but incomparably worse command!
  Vaska philosophically remarked:
  - The best technology - the worst brains! It's already become a cliche! Oh, these German peppers. That's right!
  Daria agreed:
  - Germany never ceases to amaze! On the one hand, it's amazing that we defeated them at all, on the other, that we fought for so long and with so much bloodshed! Such is the dialectic of war.
  Vaska wrinkled his forehead:
  - Dialectics? It seems to me that this is a favorite word of some speakers when they cannot give a clear answer. However, the latter is very difficult, and sometimes.... Well, enough, tell us more!
  Daria continued slowly:
  - Winter came, and the German troops became weaker. The mighty SPG "Elefant" could no longer be used in Soviet snowdrifts, and they were sent to Italy, to fight the Allies...
  Vaska suddenly asked:
  - Is the Elephant self-propelled gun a cool thing or a coffin on wheels?
  Darya shrugged and replied:
  - If we take parameters such as armor and armament, then it is better than any of the self-propelled guns that the USSR currently has. Although, I don"t know for sure, in May 1943, do we already have a 152-mm self-propelled gun or not?
  Vaska replied:
  - There are, but very few, and mostly not in the anti-tank version! And as for the armor.... How much is the frontal armor of the "Elephant"?
  The girl, wrinkling her forehead a little, answered:
  - It seems like 200 millimeters!
  Vaska whistled:
  - Power, however! Good defense, nothing to say! Oh, these "Elephants"! Or more precisely, elephants! And what are we going to fight with them?
  Darya, twitching on the boy"s shoulders, answered:
  - Most likely, yes! This is apparently the fate of our soldier!
  Vaska corrected:
  - But not in winter, only in summer! So, for now we have nothing to fear. And in general, Darya, you could tell me something about the weapons of the future. Although no, first, I want to hear you out, how did the war with the Germans end in your world?
  Daria sighed:
  - Well, you know, we won! In January 1944, Soviet troops launched an offensive in Ukraine and almost simultaneously near Leningrad. Despite the defense being well-developed in engineering terms, the Nazis quickly broke. In a month, they drove them all the way to Narva, although they were unable to take the city on the fly. And in the south, they first attacked the German defense head-on, and then carried out an operation known as Korsun-Shevchenskaya. During the latter, they managed to encircle eleven German divisions. True, some of them were still able to break out of the cauldron, but there were only about thirty thousand of them. By the way, during this operation, the Soviet IS-2 tank, a kind of "Russian tiger", was used for the first time.
  Vaska exclaimed joyfully:
  - Well, finally you started talking about our invincible weapons, I was tired of hearing all about German and German!
  Daria giggled:
  - I'm tired of it too!
  Vaska hastened to clarify:
  - What are the characteristics of the IS-2 tank?
  Darya wrinkled her smooth forehead, remembering:
  - I'm not sure, but the gun caliber is 122 mm, and the frontal armor is 160 mm. That's how powerful the tank is.
  Vaska whistled:
  - Decent, and what does it weigh?
  Daria said, not quite confidently:
  - It seems like 47 tons...
  Vaska exclaimed:
  - But it's cool! To be able to create a tank that is eleven tons lighter than the Tiger, but at the same time has one and a half times more armor and a 32-millimeter gun caliber... It's a wonderful tank!
  Daria agreed:
  - Of course, it's a masterpiece of tank building! It's like a bone in the throat of the fascists! However, this monster had only just begun to be produced at that time, and it wasn't due to it that they won. The military art of the Soviet generals also played a major role. In particular, the troops, despite the spring thaw, drove the enemy all the way to Romania. The only tactical achievement of the fascists was that they managed to break out of the cauldron, but these are just details, almost all of Ukraine, except for Galicia, became Soviet!
  Vaska asked:
  - And the allies?
  Daria giggled demonstratively:
  - They are cowards! They only managed to take Naples, and they also killed a lot of German civilians during the bombings! And that's all their achievements were limited to!
  Vaska asked again:
  - And how did the aviation operate?
  Daria quickly asked again:
  - Whose aviation?
  Vaska clarified:
  - First of all, German! Now it's bothering us, but how was it in your world? Probably better?!
  The girl quickly answered:
  - If we won, then, of course, it's better! You know, aviation is always interesting! Which Soviet plane is the best in your opinion, Vaska?
  The boy said seriously:
  - That's a tough question, Daria. The strength of an aircraft is a relative concept, and its armament, protection, speed, and maneuverability all play a role! In this regard, perhaps the best would be jet fighters, which, by the way, we don't have! Do you know anything about jet aircraft?
  Daria quickly responded:
  - I read that Germany was ahead of the USSR and other countries in this regard. There is such a thing...
  Vaska sniffed:
  - That's it! And we're falling behind, and the shores are nowhere in sight!
  Daria objected:
  - This lag is temporary, and in my world, the technical superiority of the fascists in aviation did not have a significant impact on the course of the war. Their jet planes did not help, they were still shot down! As, incidentally, the vaunted V-1 and V-2 rockets turned out to be empty shells.
  Vaska switched to a whisper:
  - This is the first time I've heard of such weapons. Or rather, that the Germans might have missiles, there have been rumors for a year now, but nothing concrete is known. Even about these notorious V-3s...
  Daria giggled:
  - What's surprising about that? This weapon was noticeably ahead of its time. It will take another ten years after the end of the war to surpass the Germans in this!
  Vaska noticed:
  - The name FAU... It looks like Faust from Goethe, is it a coincidence or not...
  Daria squeaked in response:
  - How should I know! They say this term was invented by Goebbels for a weapon of vengeance. But does this have anything to do with Faust? Ask the Minister of Propaganda.
  Vaska grimaced:
  - How can I ask, is he dead?!
  The girl replied:
  - And you arrange a spiritualistic seance! For example, Papus, at the request of Tsar Nicholas II, summoned the spirit of Alexander III. And you know, he appeared, which means some phenomena exist!
  Vaska giggled:
  - Phenomena or magicians? There is a significant difference! Most likely Papus is a talented magician...
  Daria objected:
  - How can I say! The existence of the soul has not been proven or disproved... We can argue about this for a long time, but...
  Vaska interrupted:
  - And this will be an empty argument! Yes, the materialistic theory denies the existence of the soul in the church understanding. But it is precisely in the church understanding! And if we look at the problem more broadly, how to say dialectically - then the personality of a person in principle can be preserved in a special substance, close in properties to the legendary ether. That is, as if the soul could become a product of evolution due to the existence of special fields or types of quasi-matter. There may well be some types of interactions, types of space or special dimensions that are still unknown to science. Only a presumptuous fool thinks that science has reached its limit and knows everything!
  This time Daria agreed:
  - Of course... The soul as a product of evolution and forces unknown to science! It is quite logical, especially if you remember flying in a dream... Most often, flying in a dream is seen in childhood, when the head is not so clogged with information and various knowledge, when the memory is virgin and it is easier to remember your previous incarnations. Including when your personality was an ethereal body and flew, rapidly moving through the worlds... It's great!
  Vaska suddenly changed the subject:
  - Honestly, I'm already tired of carrying you! Maybe you can walk on your own?
  Daria readily agreed:
  - Of course I'll go! My butt already hurts! And you're not at all soft!
  The girl jumped off the boy's shoulders and cooed:
  - It's still much better to walk... And why are people so afraid of death, because the body is the prison of the soul. When you die, your personality comes out of prison and there is no more pain, fatigue, fear for your life or the lives of loved ones, as well as grief for the dead, because you have already joined them!
  Vaska noticed:
  - The unknown is frightening and... Maybe even the real expectation of eternal hellish torment or non-existence... The latter is extremely unpleasant: how did you survive, live, think, build for so long and then... Maybe that's why religion is so popular: because of the weakness of man or the fact that he is mortal!
  Daria noted:
  - Maybe it's not death itself that scares people, but old age, which disfigures and torments them. By the way, really, what can you say about a father who maims his children, even if they are a little naughty. And is it really impossible for children to be a little naughty, that everyone should strictly walk on the line and not allow liberties? That a person should live as if in a straitjacket.
  Vaska nodded:
  - Well, yes! That's what the Bible essentially teaches. Most people will be thrown into the lake of fire, and the rest will be slaves of God! That is, the Christian choice is eternal slavery or torture! Yes, that's essentially, if you put aside all the pathos, the choice in the Bible. Christianity: either slavery or torture, and essentially both!
  Daria was surprised:
  - Yes, that's right! You speak the truth, but... Why then did Christianity spread so much throughout the world? Is it really that attractive: slavery or torture?
  Vaska, frowning, said:
  - There are several possible reasons. Firstly, many people are afraid of freedom and they even want to be slaves, especially if the master is not too strict. Although in this case, if God throws the overwhelming majority of people into the lake of fire, then he is certainly not kind. That is, you can"t call Christ kind if he sends ninety-nine percent of humanity to eternal torment. And the remaining percent will no longer be able to sin... And that means either losing free will, or will painfully restrain themselves so as not to end up in the fiery Gehenna. In any case, this is slavery and life in the world without sin... Deprived of joy!
  Daria nodded:
  - It seems logical! But still, Christianity has conquered almost the entire world, despite the lack of attractiveness. It's not that simple, Vasily. For example, Apostle Paul says that the righteous are equal to kings! So it's not that simple!
  Vaska narrowed his eyes:
  - In what way are they equal?! They can't sin, but the king can, and with impunity! So they are no longer equal! A righteous man cannot even taste meat, or love a woman, he is less than a slave, but not a king! Apostle Paul simply says so, because otherwise no one will join his sect. And at the same time he does not specify what exactly awaits a person in the next world!
  Daria agreed:
  - And no eye has seen and no ear has heard what the Lord has prepared for those who love him! Yes, perhaps, indeed, the prospect of eternal residence in a sterile sinless world is too painful for a person to accept! And what is sin? Each person has his own morality and measure of sinfulness. For example, the fascists did not consider the murder of a Jew a sin, and even thought that it was valor. In turn, the prophet Elisha did not consider the murder of children a sin, although it is obvious to anyone that this is barbarity. Or the Jews themselves: having destroyed the Amalekite people, both women and children and domestic animals! That is, the Bible is also contradictory in terms of sin. It seems that there is a commandment - do not kill, and at the same time, Abraham was given great credit for his readiness to kill and sacrifice an innocent child. That is, it is not clear what the essence of morality is? And the same Jesus: now begging the Father not to blame the executioners for his death, now throwing billions of people into the lake of fire for eternal torment. Here is the question: is Jesus good or evil? He did not respond to the slaps, but he got his revenge with interest: throwing the majority of humanity into the lake of fire and brimstone!
  Vaska corrected:
  - Not yet! It was just a vision, although a vivid vision!
  Daria clarified:
  - A prophetic vision is almost equivalent to a fait accompli! But, frankly speaking, the character of Christ is mysterious: good or evil? On the one hand, goodness: on the other, going beyond the limits of the instinct of self-preservation, malice, beyond any reasonable explanation!
  Vaska noticed:
  - The doctrine of endless torture for sinners makes Christ more evil than, for example, Hitler. So all this to some extent... But maybe it's enough, Daryushka, to talk about religion. Tell me better, how did the military actions develop further, in your world!
  Daria eagerly began to explain:
  - In March, a temporary lull set in in the south, and the Soviet troops began to replenish. However, in the north, the fighting intensified sharply. The Red Army tried to break through to the Baltics and take Pskov. The fighting dragged on for a long time and cost considerable losses, but forced the fascists to transfer part of their forces from the center. In April, an offensive began in the Crimea, significant forces took part in it, and the German troops experienced serious problems, especially with supplies. The Romanians, in turn, lost their fighting spirit and abandoned their weapons at the first opportunity. In addition, the Soviet command promised the Romanian prisoners of war to return to their homeland after the war. The Germans were afraid of ending up in Siberia (it must be said that their fears were not in vain, how many Fritzes perished in captivity, they still cannot count.) Nevertheless, without supplies you can"t fight for very long. It must be said that Nazi Germany was still strong by the summer of 1944. The production of weapons was constantly increasing and the Nazis even had a quantitative advantage in the number of tanks and self-propelled guns - 7.8 thousand against 7.1 thousand Soviet ones. But in this case, the Nazis could not take advantage of this. They did not have enough fuel, the Romanian and Hungarian wells were bombed by the Allies and Soviet bombers. The USSR had almost no long-range aviation, but the front line approached the main sources of oil and the strikes became more intense and accurate. In addition, the Allies intensively bombed German factories producing gasoline from brown coal. That is, numerous Nazi equipment was immobilized, including aviation. What was the use of ME-262 jet fighters if they could not even take off from the surface! In addition, due to the lack of alloying elements, the quality of the armor of German tanks dropped sharply and the mighty Tigers and Panthers were easily penetrated by shells fired by Soviet vehicles.
  Vaska winked:
  - Of course it's class: the tank is heavy, but it can't penetrate anyone! Or rather, it is penetrated.
  Daria continued:
  - On June 6, 1944, the Allied mass landing in Normandy began. They were confronted by fairly significant fascist forces. A total of 58 divisions, including eleven tank and motorized divisions, and five select SS divisions. If used correctly, they could, in principle, prevent the landing, but the fascists had positioned them extremely poorly. In addition, the Allied air force subjected the Nazis' communications to massive bombing, destroying bridges and railways. This also complicated maneuvers and the transfer of forces. In any case, the Germans were unable to parry such a blow and competently dispose of their forces. The Normandy landing and the not entirely successful use of V-1 rockets created favorable circumstances for Operation Bagration. The Nazi leadership believed that the Soviet command would first of all want to seize the Balkans before the Allies got there. In addition, the USSR would want to deprive Germany of access to Romanian oil. There were other considerations, too, since the Germans had been battered the most in the south, and the Soviet troops had noticeably penetrated their positions. In addition, the level of morale in the already defeated German units was extremely low, and the Romanian leadership was busily preparing to betray Hitler. Even Antonescu himself promised Stalin to leave the fascist coalition and declare war on Germany.
  But the Soviet leadership decided to strike first at Belarus, and only then, in the south! Especially since a kind of balcony had formed that could easily be cut down. Guderian even suggested withdrawing German troops behind the Berezina to make the front configuration more convenient for defense! Hitler did not want to hear about it. Of course, it was impossible to completely hide the transfer of troops, but the Soviet command was driving troops to the south, both real and mock tanks, along with empty ones. And disinformation was spread that the attack in the center was a bluff to draw fascist troops away from the southern sections of the front.
  Vaska noticed:
  - A good bluff is better than a bad truth!
  Daria added:
  - Plus the partisan factor, local avengers, when Operation Bagration began on June 22, destroyed almost all the railway lines, depriving the fascists of the opportunity to maneuver troops in Belarus. So the offensive, especially from the Polesie swamps, developed successfully, and Minsk was taken on July 3. The front of German troops in the east collapsed, and an offensive began in the south. In general, Hitler's troops were unprepared for effective resistance. And the Romanians, Bulgarians, and Slovaks abandoned the Third Reich. However, the Horthy regime in Hungary, in order to save its own skin, also wanted to declare war on Germany, but Otto Scorelli arrested the regent of Hungary. Then Szalasi, loyal to Hitler, was appointed to the post of Fuhrer of the Magyars. As a result, Hungary's resistance dragged on until the end of March 1945. In the center, Soviet troops approached the Vistula in August, but did not force the crossing. Some believe that Stalin did this deliberately, since an uprising had begun in Warsaw, organized by Kraikov's bourgeois government, and the red dictator wanted the Germans to drown him in blood. Others believe that the Soviet army suffered too many losses, and that supplies lagged behind, not to mention that the partisans destroyed all the railways in Belarus. At first, this helped beat the Germans, but then it had a negative effect on supplies to the Soviet army.
  Vaska agreed here:
  - It's easy to go too far in a rail war! Well, what about the allies?
  Daria smiled:
  - By the end of August they had occupied almost all of France and had a real chance to enter Germany, capturing the almost defenseless Ruhr on the move, but again their eternal Western inconsistency had an effect. In addition, rivalry among the commanders of the USA and Britain and perhaps the influence of pro-German oligarchs played a role.
  Vaska yawned widely on purpose:
  - Enough! I'm tired of politics and war! Better sing me something!
  Darya did not argue and began to sing in her wonderful, very clear and ringing voice:
  The flow of the wave is the crystal of the coast,
  The breeze is fresh, gentle and lively!
  And the snow falls so white,
  Above the gray mother Earth!
  
  The rays of the sun gilded the snowdrifts,
  And the flakes fell like fluff!
  Throw the weights off your soul quickly,
  So that the enthusiasm doesn"t suddenly fade away!
  
  I'm a barefoot girl,
  Now an evil avenger-partisan!
  A torn skirt covered in patches,
  The fascists have attacked the Motherland!
  
  Now satiety has rushed into the abyss,
  A stale rusk for lunch!
  I believe the fascists will be beaten,
  And the girls' feat is glorified!
  
  She planted explosives in the rails,
  Even though the night was cold!
  The rain poured down mercilessly,
  The trouble seemed to reach the bottom!
  
  But the train with the Germans blew up,
  Fascist tanks won't get through!
  Even though there is no ideal in the world,
  I keep the motive of love in my hearts!
  
  The journey is very long, my feet are hurt,
  But I collected everything about the Germans!
  Hitler will get it, I believe in his face,
  For your lawlessness!
  
  Heroism knows no age,
  There is no limit - death knows no bounds!
  We will go out into boundless space,
  To wipe away tears of sorrow at once!
  
  Let us achieve new greatness,
  Red flag over the entire planet!
  And you make your contribution: spiritual, personal,
  Bring it in both prose and poetry!
  
  And not for the sake of empty talk,
  After all, the word is a hammer, a sharp sickle!
  Without vile worship of relics,
  And with the creation of the Russian coat of arms!
  We conquered half of Europe,
  Of course, a new world is needed!
  Streams of cavalry, infantry,
  Let's conquer the vastness of the Universe!
  
  And it's time for you to serve Russia,
  My dear descendants!
  So that the holiday is under the blue sky,
  So that the doves shoot up like arrows!
  Well, these kids seem to have found their happiness. Or rather, a useful occupation.
  Others were not so lucky. In particular, the famous partisan Lara Mikheiko continued to languish and suffer in the quarries. An attempt to escape ended in capture. The teenage girl was beaten with hot wire for this. Why they burned a brand on her shoulder. And sent to the penal block of the camp. There they forced her to work eighteen hours a day, and constantly beat her with whips. Lara, however, showed tenacity and stubbornly did not want to fade away. In this hell, the girl slaved away, worked with a sledgehammer, a pickaxe, and dragged heavy boulders. And she did the work in chains, and naked. A real nightmare.
  But the girl endured and managed to survive. But the term of stay with the penal battalion is not limited.
  So she faced a constant whip, continuous work, chains, and meager rations. However, the girl still held on. And dreamed of escape, which seemed almost unrealistic. Poor Lara Mikheiko, who was being whipped by the overseer like a naked slave!
  . CHAPTER # 9.
  Oleg Rybachenko was rushing to Mongolia. It was already autumn and in Siberia the boy-general was met by wet snow. And it is not very pleasant when in the south of Siberia, where it was so warm not long ago, you are met by snow.
  And mixed with rain. Not very pleasant. But the boy-duke runs and runs. At the same time not forgetting to compose and very beautifully right on the go;
  In the center of the Soviet-German front, there was still an operational lull. The Nazis were only firing artillery and bombing heavily. Apparently, Hitler had decided to launch an air offensive against the USSR.
  So while Alenka had time to write, the beautiful and very sexy girl took advantage of it.
  Everything is much better in her AI than in reality. Japan has already been specifically pinched.
  Alenka broke away from her friend a little. So far they mostly fought against infantry and sometimes only encountered aviation. So far they could not distinguish themselves too much and the prospect of receiving a new "Victory" order did not threaten yet. True, there was some chance to acquire new stars of the Hero of the USSR.
  The Soviet army was advancing rapidly... Starting on the ninth, and by the sixteenth of August, consider the defense of the Land of the Rising Sun completely disorganized, and by the nineteenth, their advancing units had joined those that were rushing from the Mongolian side. Here, finally, Alenka met Japanese self-propelled guns.
  Light, until I came across a self-propelled gun based on the Chi-Ha tank.
  The information support for this operation flashed through Alenka"s head;
  Until a certain time, there was no place for self-propelled artillery units in the strategic thinking of the Japanese command. For a number of reasons, infantry support was entrusted to light and medium tanks, as well as field artillery. Nevertheless, starting in 1941, the Japanese military initiated the creation of self-propelled artillery units several times. These projects did not have a great future, and there were very few self-propelled guns, but Alenka still got them. So the knowledge gained about these machines was very useful.
  Alenka crept up unnoticed, holding in her hands a reinforced modification of an anti-tank grenade.
  The first was the Type 1 (Ho-Ni I) installation, designed to combat enemy combat vehicles and fortifications. An armored cabin with a 50-millimeter thick frontal plate was installed on the chassis of the Chi-Ha medium tank in place of the turret. This cabin design was used on all subsequent Japanese self-propelled guns of that time. Only the guns and their installation systems changed. A Type 90 field gun of 75 mm caliber was installed in the cabin of the 14-ton combat vehicle. Rough horizontal guidance of the gun was carried out by turning the entire vehicle. Fine guidance was carried out by a rotating mechanism, within a sector 40? wide. Depression/elevation angles were from -6? to +25?. The power of such weapons was sufficient to destroy all American tanks at distances of 500 meters. At the same time, the attacking Japanese self-propelled gun itself was exposed to the risk of return fire. Only 36 Type 1 SPGs were built starting in 1942. Despite the small number, these artillery units were actively used in most operations. Several units survived until the obvious end of the war, when they would become a trophy of the USSR.
  And this one was also among the trophies. Alenka shot the shooter. And then, when the Japanese tried to get out of the car, she cut him down with a couple of pistol shots. And she stabbed the last one with a knife. The hardest part was, of course, getting to and getting under machine gun fire. But then it was a piece of cake to take out the poorly covered and bravely sticking out shooter. Barefoot Alenka even made like a tomboy, pointing her nose towards the Japanese islands:
  - You'll get a bump on your head, I guarantee the little yellow lemons!
  A red flag must be hung on the captured SPG and it must be led to its positions. This will be safer for it, so that it is not accidentally destroyed... Considering how few such SPGs the Land of the Rising Sun has, it will also receive, in addition to the order that is due in such cases, a medal from the military history museum, with a certificate.
  But barefoot Alla was also lucky in battles. And she ran into her own self-propelled gun.
  Of course, she also preferred to capture her while she was still warm. She threw a smoke bomb, also shot the machine gunner, but unlike Alenok, she preferred not to shoot from a pistol.
  Why waste bullets when you can use wonderful bayonets and knives. And barefoot Alla was not afraid of hand-to-hand combat with the Japanese. On the contrary, it is so nice when your bare leg, up to the knee, is driven into the enemy's groin, forcing the latter to bend over from pain shock. And then you will also grind a couple of samurai pillboxes with this machine. And the parameters of this SPG quite allow it.
  The next serial self-propelled gun of Japanese production was the Ho-Ni II, also known as the Type 2. A 105-mm howitzer, the Type 99, was mounted on a chassis with a cabin, completely taken from the Type 1. This self-propelled gun was primarily intended for firing from closed positions. However, sometimes, due to the situation, it was necessary to fire direct fire. The gun's power was enough to destroy any American tanks at a distance of about a kilometer. Fortunately for the Americans, only 54 such artillery mounts were built in 1943-45. Another eight were converted from serial Chi-Ha tanks. Due to the small number of self-propelled guns, the Ho-Ni II were unable to have a significant impact on the course of the war.
  Fire-breathing Alla was glad that she had a self-propelled gun with such a powerful 105-millimeter howitzer. She could use it to strike at the enemy's fortified points, which were snarling with machine-gun fire.
  Barefoot Alla even giggles:
  - One, two, three! Tear up all the tanks!
  But the third hero, Maksimka, also managed to distinguish himself. The boy still performed the function of a scout, but at the same time he did not disdain, or rather even passionately desired to fight.
  Shooting accurately, he had already managed to kill more than thirty Japanese during the offensive.
  But this was only worth an order, and the boy wanted a Hero of the USSR star, he had four orders, the fifth was not so significant. Moreover, he would soon be fourteen, which meant joining the Komsomol. And getting a gold hero star while you were still wearing a red tie would be much nicer. For example, he could shout at the overly impudent old men:
  - Come on, don't be so funny! I even got a gold star as a pioneer!
  So the boy came across a self-propelled gun, and a rather rare type at that. So why not seize it. Especially since it's a Ho-Ni 3.
  The Type 3 or Ho-Ni III became a further development of the Type 1. The main weapon of this self-propelled gun was the Type 3 tank gun developed for the Chi-Nu. The gun's ammunition complement of 54 shells theoretically allowed the Ho-Ni III self-propelled gun to become a serious combat vehicle. However, all three dozen self-propelled guns built were transferred to the 4th Tank Division. Due to the specific goals of this unit - it was intended to defend the Japanese archipelago - all Ho-Ni IIIs survived the war almost without losses, and then became part of the Japanese Quantum Army in Manchuria.
  So the boy crawls up to this machine. He needs to trick the Japanese. He needs to be clever...
  And so Maximka inflates a beautiful balloon. Which depicts the face of Emperor Hirohito.
  True, this ball is homemade, but it had to be painted with art and love. So that the portrait resemblance would be absolute. A scout boy, almost black from dirt and sunburn, wearing only shorts, was catching a self-propelled gun crew on a hook. Even if it was a little childish.
  The trick, as naive as it looked, worked! The SPG stopped, and all five crew members jumped out and fell to their knees, rolling their eyes behind their foreheads. The pioneer hero fired both of his small pistols at once into their foreheads. It took him a second to quickly press the smooth triggers of a weapon specially designed for scouts to remove them. And then jump into the open SPG. Hang a red rag on top and lead them to their own.
  Along the way, by the way, the boy had another opportunity to distinguish himself.
  A tank for artillery support of marine landing units, armed with a 120-mm short-barreled gun. Produced in small series on the basis of the "Chi-ha" and with three machine guns, it pinned the Soviet infantry to the ground, and the Soviet combat vehicles were late.
  Maksimka had to stop his car, as it was impossible for one boy, even one as experienced in technology as he, to drive and shoot at the same time. He aimed the gun at the stern of a large Japanese tank and boom. An excellent shell, anti-tank. The distance was short and the destruction was a breeze. And the short barrel of the armored samurai fell off.
  Maximka exclaimed:
  - This is our victory! This is how we should fight!
  And he led his captured self-propelled gun further, whistling a cheerful song, well, maybe not too cheerful, but at least a fighting one;
  The sun in the sky is like a small lake,
  It reflects our planet!
  Let's go out for a walk with you on the porch,
  May all impulses of love be sung!
  
  But there are no hours for walking,
  An evil fascist attacks the Fatherland!
  The invasion is coming from the hell of donkeys,
  They want to kill communism!
  
  But we united - Stalin leads;
  His wisdom, I believe, is endless!
  As our ancestors with a sword for Russia,
  So the Soviet Union will fight forever!
  
  The chimes strike, the world is shocked,
  The cruiser "Aurora" is worth a squadron!
  We cut the soft flax with sickles,
  After all, the course of the battle is decided by - know the personnel!
  
  Lenin gave land to everyone without problems,
  Stalin expanded and elevated the collective farms!
  Everyone wants changes in the world,
  To rush into the heights of space!
  
  Everyone in the Union is equal to the gods,
  Can have skyscrapers and yachts!
  And if we lose, it will be a shame for us,
  They will beat your heels with a bamboo stick!
  
  So fight, you don't know it;
  A bullet is a fool, but life is a canary!
  I believe the warrior will achieve everything,
  And the world will not value it for a penny!
  
  But there is, of course, a terrible barrier,
  "Tigers" are mighty, with the barrel of a "Panther"!
  And behind my back is the evil, greedy Uncle Sam,
  He wants to turn Russian women into hetaeras!
  
  But the monster fascism will be considered,
  Russians are the Fatherland of heroes!
  Believe me, communism will be built,
  We will quickly dig up the world of violence!
  
  The Party, Stalin and the Komsomol,
  This is the Triad, the support of Russia!
  The enemy will be crushed by a blow,
  And the host of nations will become happier!
  
  The nations of the world are waiting for us everywhere,
  The workers of all the countries under the moon are groaning!
  There is no shelter for them here on Earth,
  A millstone on the neck - cast iron crushes!
  
  But Stalin was firm and gave us an order;
  Give freedom, peace, joy to people!
  Let us fulfill this wise order,
  Let's cleanse the filth from the face of the planet!
  The boy took the car and handed it over to experienced tankers. He himself ran into battle, he felt at the top. Besides, spiritual inspiration often raises the sense of smell to the highest level. And Maxim realized that there was another self-propelled gun hiding not so far away.
  Moreover, it was large and the boy even managed to, as it were, feel its class.
  In addition to the Ho-Ni family, there was another self-propelled artillery unit based on the Chi-Ha tank. This was the Ho-Ro/Type 4 self-propelled gun. It differed from other Japanese self-propelled guns in the design of the armored cabin, as well as in its armament. The Ho-Ro was the most powerful self-propelled gun of the Japanese Empire: the 150-mm Type 38 howitzer could ensure the destruction of almost any target. However, the Type 4 self-propelled guns did not become widespread either. The entire series was limited to only 35 vehicles. Several of the first serial Ho-Ros managed to take part in the battle for the Philippines. However, later all available self-propelled howitzers were transferred to the 4th Tank Division. As part of this unit, the Type 4 self-propelled guns managed to fight only on Okinawa, where several units were destroyed by strikes from American troops, and now one of them has ended up in Manchuria. What for this will he finally be given a gold star. And better not like the famous Golikov posthumously, but during his lifetime. And then to accomplish a great many great feats. Until communism wins all over the world.
  But even after this, world history is far from over. There will be battles and campaigns to other cosmic worlds. And so, for sure, there are also predatory fascist empires, the borders of which extend to entire galaxies. A great variety of previously unseen types of weapons, the full diversity of which can only be imagined by a poet, and one of no less than Leonardo Davinci's level.
  The boy ran towards the supposed location of the self-propelled gun, the largest of the mass classes at the moment. It would take some time to run across this prickly steppe, with its many charred stumps and prickly stones.
  What lies ahead - war! What lies behind? Disaster! There is hope that 1941 will not be repeated! And he will invent some new wonderful weapon or method of obtaining energy.
  Something special and unique... For example, gravity can be used to generate electricity. After all, gravitational waves are like the same surf, they can be used anywhere and at any time on our planet Earth. You just need to decompose the constant gravitational component into a variable one, for example, using a spatial transformer, and then the power of the mother will triumph over the weakness of the spirit!
  Maximka immediately came up with an aphorism:
  - Victory of science; triumph of the power of matter over the weakness of the human spirit!
  The boy suddenly liked to shine with wit so much that the winged aphorisms just started to rot out of him;
  Your eye is a diamond! When your eye is a diamond, unlike a natural stone, it is always at hand and does not need to be dug up!
  Even a cow needs pants if they are at the fork in the road between a pasture and a watering hole!
  A woman values the clothes she wears, a man values the lack of them, and a tax collector values the number of patches that can be cut from someone else's dress to patch up the state budget!
  For the sake of art, performers make voluntary sacrifices; for the sake of military art, listeners are forced to sacrifice!
  The public always wants an encore to a masterpiece of art, and there are no public left who want a repeat of a masterpiece of military art!
  Concerts of the maestro of art, people pay big money for tickets, and even more money is paid to avoid concerts of the maestro of military art!
  It is better to kill one scoundrel than to expose a hundred - the latter is what the scoundrels do themselves!
  War is the most gambling game, only in it, unlike poker, the one who loses his fortune is the one who cannot subjugate himself to gambling!
  Attacking in war is like racing a horse, only the racetrack has far more obstacles and corrupt jockeys!
  This aphorism is not accurate! At horse races you can bribe jockeys, during the attack the runner realizes that life is not for sale!
  A long revolver barrel compensates for a short mind, only in verbal communication!
  War is a wife that never leaves, but gives birth only to dead children!
  If subjects want to eat sweetly and sleep softly, they must choose a ruler with a salty sense of humor and a firm grip!
  The cruelty of the tyrant's decisions is compensated by the liberalism of their implementation, in a free economy!
  A person gets used to everything, but he cannot get used to routine, since the latter lasts only until the first sleepy yawn, and then follows the awakening cry of novelty!
  Friends are known only in that situation which you are ready to avoid even at the cost of gaining mortal enemies!
  He who underestimates his opponent, underestimates his own life!
  He who values himself excessively will become somewhat cheap in the eyes of others!
  In shooting, only composure prevents your fingers from cooling down and your enthusiasm from fading!
  The commander's composure lights the torch of triumphal fire!
  Friendship is fragile, enmity is strong, but friendship can only be tempered by the destruction of enmity! Character is tempered by ardent enthusiasm mixed with cold calculation!
  He who laughs does not die, because when you laugh there is no funeral mood!
  There is no such thing as shameful labor, only vile use of its results!
  Dreams are sweet, but they don"t spread on bread, although they attract midges perfectly!
  You can miss when shooting, but if you have not only an accurate eye, but also a mind, you will never miss success!
  The lack of a naturally keen eye can be compensated for by optics, but the lack of a precise mind due to laziness cannot be compensated for by any calculating machine!
  The tongue grinds quickly, but the bread of wisdom baked from such grinding will not become stale over the centuries!
  The bread of knowledge, baked from flour ground by the tongues of the wisest, can also become moldy if it is neglected by an empty talker!
  He who takes few risks, drinks no champagne, and he who takes too much, is content with chifir in prison!
  Those who have a completely rusty sense of responsibility usually have a golden tongue!
  A suit adorns a person no more than a dress adorns a hanger, if he has the intelligence of a mannequin and the education of Pinocchio!
  It is good to have such a kind and sympathetic Father as Papa Carlo, but it is very bad to have a head made of a log and a soup in the form of a still life!
  It is better to be a strong champion and exhaust yourself with training than to be reduced to an outsider and bask in the joy of your own impotence!
  Man is superior to animals precisely because he will never set a final frontier for himself and will never reach the limit of satisfied ambition!
  The whole world consists of needles, only to the living it seems sleek, because of the shod consciousness!
  A ruler under whom everything becomes more expensive is not worth a dead fly!
  Rulers who want unlimited space receive strictly limited amounts of money for their graves!
  Nothing screams about losses more piercingly than a lull in war!
  The sounds of battle are deafening, but you become truly deaf when you don"t notice the end of the cannonade!
  The people treat a bad ruler like beer, they want to see it cold and on the table, but they are ready to pay for it with more than just paper!
  - When a ruler is bad, he is highly rated in jokes! And when there are many jokes, then life becomes more fun! And laughter prolongs life! That is, with worthless leaders: life is like a continuous joke: long, fun, scary, but you always want to know the continuation!
  For those who smoke cigarettes, the construction of life's successes requires taking a smoke break too often!
  That's always the case in business: you're looking for treasure and you find a sniper, who, by the way, casts a bullet from the party's gold!
  Death is always in a hurry for you, late for your mother-in-law, but right on time for a frivolous perception of the world!
  People always have time to die, but in life there is total time pressure!
  However, during war, the dial hand is faster than the propeller of a MIG when you sleep, and slower than a snail when you dig a trench!
  You can be late with revenge, you can rush with a reward, but the feeling of routine will come inevitably!
  God justifies hopes in only one thing, he never leaves a person without trials and problems - an additional word in private is superfluous!
  There are no roses without thorns, roads without obstacles, life without trials, and only the path to the grave is like smooth asphalt without cracks!
  It's not the bullet that's the fool, it's the one who doesn't aim the bullet accurately!
  There are no hopeless situations for those whose thoughts do not come out through the backseat!
  The shortest path to victory, a tortuous maneuver that confuses the enemy's calculations!
  Only a ball of chaotic threads wound with precise calculation can confuse the enemy!
  Speed is good everywhere except haste and aging!
  Uncertainty, the sister of betrayal, and the elder one, penetrating everywhere!
  Victory requires faith, but unlike religion, the justification must be confirmed by practice!
  A great man will never exalt himself, an insignificant man will never be exalted by others!
  They disdain immortality, they don"t value life, they want to buy themselves off from death, and they are ready to give everything for the opportunity to sleep during the war!
  They often hit you in the groin, but it is lust that most surely destroys your mind!
  The Russians sometimes lost, lost their heads, but in the end they always left the enemy with nothing!
  Maksimka liked the last aphorism so much that she even did a few somersaults and then walked on her hands. And then suddenly fell on her belly, rolling into the bushes. Here it is, the heaviest SPG of Japan from those produced in series, slowly crawling towards the Soviet positions...
  Or no, it"s not even crawling, but has changed its position, apparently preferring not to attack superior forces head-on, but to act from behind an ambush.
  Well, that's not smart! It's clear that throwing yourself under direct fire from T-34-85 tanks is suicidal, so it's better to act from behind an ambush like the notorious "Royal Tiger", a dangerous destroyer of Soviet tanks.
  The boy took out his balloon again, wanted to try the joke with the emperor once more, especially since the self-propelled gun was just starting to climb into the bushes thicker, so that it would not be noticed. He planned to play the number for an encore, but he had doubts - if the tankers in this machine are so smart that they thought of acting from behind an ambush, then perhaps they will not fall for one balloon. And that means he will have to play a more difficult part. For example, in flight, not only the emperor's face, by the way, is very intelligent and smart. And also an inflatable dragon, smeared with phosphorus to enhance the effect. In this case, everything will look very majestic.
  Maximka crawled through the bushes, closer. He was green from the grass, small and unnoticeable. After which he began to inflate the balloons, quite naturally expecting to make a stunning impression:
  - A trap must be simple for the one who builds it and incomprehensible for those for whom it is set! A genius loves simplicity, but not in the answers to his riddles!
  The SPG gives off a heavy smell of burnt oil and stinking diesel fuel. It is large, very similar to the German Tiger tank. Only the barrel is shorter, but also thicker. In addition, the Japanese model is still a little lower, which makes it more convenient for camouflage. The Rising Sun fighters are sitting in ambush, waiting for their chance. One climbed out of the hatch, nervously lit a cigarette. His face is very angry, in general, even on military posters showing aggressors, such a brutal expression is not often seen.
  But the sight of the image of the fluttering emperor and the sparkling dragon next to him is touching...
  And so the Japanese jumped out of the self-propelled gun. They moved towards the balls, interrupting, giggling and pushing each other away, trying to catch the marvelous images.
  Maksimka even felt sorry for killing them, but duty is duty. So in war it's war...
  There are six crew members and three volleys from two pistols are enough for them. Just one bullet for each. So that they don't suffer like that in the forehead for long. The boy perceived himself as one with the pistols, and couldn't afford such a luxury as a miss at close range.
  Well, after that he stated in rhyme:
  - Life is a chain, and the little things in it are links - you can"t help but attach importance to a link, but you can"t dwell on the little things, otherwise the chain will envelop you!
  . CHAPTER #10.
  After which the boy confidently climbed into this "royal self-propelled gun". There he spent some time to figure out which levers to pull. It's a complicated system after all. But all the Japanese tanks and self-propelled guns have the same motive. They are easier to handle, and there is a certain unification to simplify the crews' handling. It seems like the Nazis unified the rollers and hull shapes of the "Royal Tiger" and "Panther".
  Maximka slightly bruised his toes when he pulled the pedal, which made him swear:
  - Yes, I'm completely clubfooted here... Only I'm not a grizzly...
  The SPG's engine roared, the tracks skidded a little in the thickets, and it moved off with difficulty. And it moved... Maksimka sang:
  - I play the balalaika, it's the best instrument! Only in Moscow is it better than in Jamaica, and do you want bananas for the buffet?
  The SPG also had four pneumatically controlled machine guns... And 125-millimeter frontal armor at an angle of 35 degrees from the vertical. Just based on the impenetrability of the Sherman's 76.2-millimeter cannon with an initial projectile velocity of 810 meters per second. It is clear that this modification of the SPG is more modern, with a larger number of machine guns and enhanced armor. True, its mobility is weak. But a tank destroyer should have decent driving characteristics in order to get to the place where the enemy's predatory machines break through. However, this cannon also allowed for effective shelling of unarmored targets.
  It seems like the famous KV-2 tank, it is too weak to fight the enemy's mobile vehicles, try to hit them with its slow howitzer. The Japanese analogue has a slightly better rate of fire, but it is also not super. But Maksimka is not embarrassed by this and even sang a little:
  - Our guns are not toys! They hit like hellish firecrackers!
  The boy remembered how the commander told him that in the American state of Texas it is forbidden to take more than three sips of beer while standing. Then Maximka remarked:
  - And who will count it?
  The commander replied:
  - American police are used to hitting, not counting!
  After this, it was as if I somehow lost the desire to believe in democracy in the USA, but on the other hand, in the USSR they could also shoot for keeping a Vlasov leaflet, which, of course, in Maksimka's opinion was too much. He himself was curious to read what the Vlasovites were writing. And General Vlasov himself, a very decent commander, aroused a certain interest. Well, what prompted him to betray his Motherland? Especially after the defeat of the Germans near Moscow, and the entry of the USA into the war, it became obvious that the chances of the anti-Hitler coalition were incomparably higher than those of the Axis powers.
  Although, of course, it is difficult to calculate the exact coefficient, and the probability of betrayal on the part of the allies is quite high. In addition, at some point the fascists began to win again and it seemed that they were hanging on the brink. But first the Americans gave Japan a good kick in the teeth in the Battle of Midway, then the Soviet army was victorious. Hitler's horde was ripped apart in the Battle of the Caucasus and, of course, at Stalingrad.
  Maksimka spent some, or rather a decent amount of time in the occupied territory. He wanted to join the partisans as soon as the fascists occupied Zhitomir, near which his native collective farm was located.
  And the next step was to join the partisans... Well, not quite right away, at first he and the boys distinguished themselves by requisitioning something valuable from the Nazi warehouse. Then he became a scout, since he had an excellent memory, sharp eyesight, and a strong wit. And he also understood technology, like an engineer of the highest qualification. For example, how many boys know the technical characteristics of fascist tanks?
  Maximka, for example, can recite it by heart;
  Under the terms of the Treaty of Versailles, Germany, which had been defeated in World War I, was prohibited from having armored forces, with the exception of a small number of armored cars for police purposes. But despite this, the Reichswehr Armaments Directorate had been secretly working on creating tanks since 1925. Until the early 1930s, these developments did not go beyond the construction of prototypes, both due to the latter's insufficient characteristics and the weakness of Germany's industry at that time. Nevertheless, by mid-1933, German designers managed to create their first serial tank, the Pz.Kpfw.I, and began its serial production in 1933-1934. The Pz.Kpfw.I, with its machine gun armament and two-man crew, was considered only as a transitional model on the way to the construction of more advanced tanks. The development of two of them began back in 1933 - a more powerful "transitional" tank, the future Pz.Kpfw.II, and a full-fledged combat tank, the future Pz.Kpfw.III, armed with a 37-mm cannon, intended primarily to combat other armored vehicles.
  Due to the initial limitations of the PzIII's armament, it was decided to supplement it with a fire support tank, with a longer-range gun and a powerful fragmentation shell capable of penetrating anti-tank defenses beyond the reach of other tanks. In January 1934, the Armament Office organized a design competition for a vehicle of this class, whose weight would not exceed 24 tons. Since work on armored vehicles in Germany at that time was still being carried out in secret, the new project, like the others, was given the code name "battalion commander's vehicle" (German: Bataillonsführerwagen, usually abbreviated to BW). From the very beginning, the companies Rheinmetall and Krupp were involved in developing projects for the competition, and later Daimler-Benz and MAN joined them. Over the next 18 months, all companies presented their developments, and the Rheinmetall project, designated VK 2001(Rh), was even manufactured in metal as a prototype in 1934-1935.
  All the submitted projects had a chassis with a staggered arrangement of large-diameter road wheels and the absence of return rollers, with the exception of the same VK 2001 (Rh), which generally inherited the chassis with small-diameter road wheels locked in pairs and side screens from the experimental heavy tank Nb.Fz. The Krupp project - VK 2001 (K) was ultimately recognized as the best of them, but the Armament Directorate was not satisfied with its leaf spring suspension, which they demanded to replace with a more advanced torsion bar one. However, Krupp insisted on using a chassis with medium-diameter road wheels locked in pairs on a leaf spring suspension borrowed from the rejected Pz.Kpfw.III prototype of its own design. In order to avoid the inevitable delays in the start of production of a tank that the army desperately needed when reworking the project for a torsion bar suspension, the Armament Directorate was forced to agree to Krupp's proposal. After the subsequent revision of the project, Krupp received an order for the production of a pre-production batch of the new tank, which by that time had received the designation "armored vehicle with a 75-mm gun" (German: 7.5 cm Geschütz-Panzerwagen) or, according to the continuous designation system adopted at that time, "experimental model 618" (German: Versuchskraftfahrzeug 618 or Vs.Kfz.618). From April 1936, the tank acquired its final designation - Panzerkampfwagen IV or Pz.Kpfw.IV. In addition, it was assigned the index Vs.Kfz.222, which previously belonged to the Pz.Kpfw.II.
  Maksimka's thoughts were interrupted by a booming shot and a shell was rumbling into the frontal armor of the self-propelled gun. Fortunately, the 85-millimeter caliber ricocheted, but... The boy got a very unpleasant blow to the ears...
  Here Maximka realized that he hadn't put a red rag on top. What a fool, and he should have thought about Nazi technology. It's good that the Japanese have good quality armor, cemented, the samurai know how to make it. Maybe it can withstand a seventeen-foot English cannon?
  As luck would have it, there was no red rag at hand, and Maksimka jumped out of the turret himself, but before that the frontal armor was hit twice more... It's a good thing that the SU-100 was only produced towards the end of the war and there was no such thing... Such a monster penetrated. The SU-100's power is roughly equivalent to the "Royal Tiger" gun. If it's weaker, then only a little, so...
  Maksimka has very light hair and it is immediately obvious that he is not Japanese. A purebred inhabitant of the Land of the Rising Sun cannot be blond at all. If he has light hair, which is rare, then it means that he has an admixture of European blood.
  The fire immediately stopped, and Maximka crossed himself, shaking off a drop of blood dripping from his cheek.
  - Ooh, that's breathtaking! I'll pretend I'm deaf. If only the color would go out in the classroom! Ooh!
  And the boy jumped off the roof. He jumped faster than a leopard...
  Barefoot and golden-haired Maria also generally prospered... Marshal Vasilevsky himself announced a petition to award the terminator girl a whole series of high awards. And what is this, a marshal, and not a brat!
  The beautiful Maria was promised to be awarded a second gold star... This was already required by the regulations. Twenty-five planes, one star... But the girl also set a kind of record for the Red Army. Or rather, even two records - for the destruction of tanks and planes... And this required some other special distinction... Vasilevsky thought... In principle, there is an order higher than the Hero of the USSR star, it is "Victory" it was awarded as an exception to the rules to Alisa and Angelica after the capture of the Fuhrer and his retinue.
  But it was an exception, because "Victory" is an award primarily for military leaders. Or rather, it was established specifically to distinguish outstanding military leaders, especially since the number of those awarded the gold star of a hero has grown significantly, which means it was necessary to award something higher. Because even pioneers were given gold stars of a hero, and it is not respectable to award a child and a marshal the same.
  And barefoot Maria, without unnecessary prejudices, flies again to the shores of Japan. She received the task of probing the territory of the metropolis. Seven fighters are flying straight at her. Moreover, quite modern and powerful Ki-61.
  The blonde warrior automatically enters a state of combat trance - she needs to destroy enemy aircraft as quickly and at a distance as possible, otherwise her Il will be finished in a maneuverable battle.
  Barefoot Maria no longer sees the battle itself, only energy lines, fingers automatically pressing the triggers. The data from the Japanese plane comes to mind;
  The Ki-61 Hien (Swallow) fighter was unique among Japanese combat aircraft of World War II. It was equipped with an inverted V-shaped piston engine Ha-40, which was a licensed version of the German Daimler-Benz DB-601A engine.
  Barefoot in a bikini Maria recalled the prototype Ki-61 was manufactured in December 1941 and successfully passed flight tests, demonstrating good maneuverability and controllability in the air. True, compared to the Ki-43, the fighter had a fairly high specific wing load (146 kg/m2), but this drawback was fully compensated for by powerful weapons, self-sealing fuel tanks and armor protection of the machine. The maximum speed of the Ki-61 at an altitude of 6,000 m was 591 km/h. For that time, quite decent! For military tests, the Kawasaki company built another 11 prototypes, but even before their completion, an order was received for serial production of the fighter.
  The Ki-61 entered service with the Japanese Army in late 1942 and, in accordance with the Japanese designation system, was given the name "Army Fighter Type 3 Model I" and the name "Hien" (Swallow). By the end of the year, the Kagamihara plant had produced 34 serial fighters in two versions: the Ki-61-la (armed with two 12.7 mm synchronized fuselage No-103 machine guns and two wing-mounted 7.7 mm "Type 89" machine guns) and the Ki-61-Ib (four 12.7 mm No-103 machine guns in the wing and fuselage).
  Golden-haired Maria noted when the last seventh Japanese machine shattered into pieces:
  - Her armament is weak. It doesn't give you the slightest chance! So I took you and knocked down the distance.
  The famous ace Kozhedub's approving cry came through the headphones:
  - Well, you're a sniper. You cut me down without a miss, at such a distance... Truly the best of the best warriors.
  Barefoot Maria answered modestly:
  -There is no one who is the best and who is the worst! We are all doing a common holy cause together!
  . EPILOGUE.
  But Oleg Rybachenko did not make it to Mongolia. Man proposes, God disposes. And so the boy-duke and his team are again thrown into the fight against hellish coronaviruses and are fighting in the universe of the king-bacillus.
  So, clouds are gathering over Russia. And here a lot will depend on how effective a lesson will be taught to the Coronavirus-Universe!
  Natasha, this blue-haired witch, finished off the last of the infected warriors in this place, throwing another grenade with her bare toes and squeaked:
  - For Holy Russia!
  And from her scarlet nipples she shot out murderous lightning bolts. That's how cool of a girl she is.
  After which the six decided to confer. Oleg Rybachenko, as the youngest in age, was the first to speak and suggested:
  - I think we should move deeper into the territory of the Coronavirus-Universe and destroy the reserve army that they are forming in their most infected place. After that, they will lose the desire to fight us!
  Margarita agreed with this:
  - We won't let them invade and we'll kill them! We'll sow fear and horror!
  Natasha objected:
  - Is it worth it? Maybe the coronaviruses will come to their senses on their own?
  Augustina stated decisively:
  - No! We need to finish off the enemy completely! In general, there is a concept called preventive war!
  The boy Oleg Rybachenko agreed with this:
  - That's right! If Stalin had attacked Hitler first, it would have been a very convincing victory!
  Zoya chirped, baring her teeth:
  - For the Motherland and Stalin! And the first thawed patch!
  Svetlana confirmed with a laugh:
  - In my dream I see Stalin,
  And littered with corpses...
  My native Rus'!
  Augustina suggested, baring her teeth:
  - Let's move on to voting! Who is for going into the depths of the Coronavirus-Universe?
  Oleg Rybachenko remembered how he threw grenades with his bare feet, which never came to an end, and roared:
  - I'm ready for the campaign! Moreover, other countries will be afraid to come out against us!
  Augustine yelled:
  - Our strength, our fist! Let fear rule in the Fatherland!
  Natasha nodded and decisively, stamping her bare foot, declared:
  - If you're going to hit me, hit me!
  And the girl let out a spark from her scarlet nipple. It flew a mile and hit the head of the coronavirus scout. And his head exploded into pieces.
  Zoya approved of this:
  - If you're going to beat, beat until the end! Otherwise, the enemy will reappear like weeds on a cleared plot of land.
  Oleg Rybachenko yelled:
  - We will go into battle again,
  For the power of tsarism...
  And we will easily erase everyone,
  The goal of communism!
  And the boy threw a stone with his bare, round heel, and it flew past and hit a coronavirus soldier. He fell and pierced another soldier with his own bayonet.
  Augustine, this red-haired girl took it and growled, shaking her naked chest:
  - Here you go, boy!
  Oleg, embarrassed, noted:
  - In calendar years, I'm not quite a boy!
  Svetlana, having launched a sharp stone with her bare toes and knocked down three more coronaviruses, noted:
  - Age determines intelligence, not the calendar, and even more so appearance!
  Oleg Rybachenko pouted and noted:
  - In my past life I wrote over a thousand novels, not counting the small stuff! So I'm all right with my intellect!
  Augustina giggled and suggested:
  - Let's check it out! Let's go and play...
  Oleg Rybachenko exclaimed:
  - Play chess!
  Augustina shook her head:
  - No! We'll play strategy!
  Oleg, baring his teeth, replied:
  - Yes, that's wonderful! Well, let's try to warm up!
  Natasha suggested:
  - Let's dance first!
  Oleg Rybachenko agreed:
  - I'm ready!
  Margarita threw a piece of glass with her bare foot, it flew past and cut the throat of the coronavirus rider.
  The girl roared:
  - I am the strongest in the world!
  And all six fighters began to dance. And when another regiment of coronaviruses appeared, the small detachment began to throw glass fragments and needles with their bare feet.
  A couple thousand yellow warriors were suddenly overwhelmed and destroyed.
  Margarita sang:
  - Rus' is a great country,
  Satan won't break it!
  Augustina released lightning from her ruby nipple, burning fifty warriors of the Celestial Empire at once, and yelped:
  - Now we will test your intelligence.
  The barefoot boy with his well-defined muscles growled:
  - Let's do it for real!
  Afterwards Oleg and Augustine started playing the strategy game World War II. Augustine for Hitler, Oleg for Stalin.
  Here there was an exchange of real blows. Augustina used the cheater code and a mass of tanks of the "E" series broke through to Moscow. Togo and Oleg used the cheater code and the IS-7s hit the Germans. And it was a meeting of the scythe and the stone. And a mass of coffins. Even if virtual.
  Oleg Rybachenko plays with gusto, and his troops break through the German defense. They create cauldrons. Augustine again uses the rogue code. A very wild exchange of moves takes place.
  The boy genius sang:
  - Somewhere on the Kama - we don"t know ourselves,
  Somewhere on the Kama - mother river!
  You can't reach it with your hands, you can't reach it with your feet,
  Well, if necessary, we'll hit you with the pokers!
  And Soviet tanks destroy the fascists. There is nothing cooler than the IS-7. And you can safely fight with the Mauses and E-100. The Soviet tank is not afraid of such monsters.
  They are heavier, but that doesn't mean they are stronger.
  And Oleg advances, moves rapidly with the machines. And there are like a thousand devils in him.
  The boy prodigy sings:
  - We'll smash the Fritzes, chiki-chiki-chiki-ta!
  And now the Soviet troops have taken another barrier. They are like geniuses of battles and fights!
  Augustina, however, is not simple either. And she acts with aggressive pressure. She throws more and more and more forces under the wheels of the Red Army.
  And the red-haired warrior sings:
  - Enemies will not stop me! I will conquer the vastness of the universe!
  And more and more regiments go into battle.
  Oleg Rybachenko sang with joy:
  The Fritzes are raging in rage,
  The enemy moved his regiments forward...
  But the crazy Aryans -
  The Russians will meet with hostility!
  They will bite into the pig's skin,
  The enemy will be crushed into dust -
  The Russians are fighting fiercely,
  The soldier's fist is strong!
  And the boy carries out another flanking maneuver and encircles Augustine's troops.
  Yes, the boy is smart, there are no words.
  Augustina gurgled:
  - No, I will not give up, I have always known how to fight!
  Oleg Rybachenko agreed:
  - We will not surrender! We will simply destroy you!
  And now the Soviet troops are on the offensive again. And the rogue's code doesn't help the Fritzes.
  Then Augustina cunningly changes the option. And Britain and the USA enter the war on her side. The warriors of this armada rushed into battle. And began to press the enemy.
  But Soviet IS-7 tanks destroy US Shermans and Pershings, as well as the British Churchill tank, with even greater ease.
  Without receiving any damage themselves.
  Augustina growled:
  - What a little devil you are!
  Oleg Rybachenko, pressing the joystick with his bare, childish toes, says:
  - Small, but mighty!
  Natasha answered quite sternly:
  - Come on, girls! We need to defeat the Konoviros-Universe before the Turks attack Russia!
  Augustina bared her teeth and remarked aggressively:
  - Let them try to attack! We'll tear them to shreds!
  Oleg nodded:
  - Of course! And we will take revenge for the defeat in the Crimean War!
  Natasha smiled and replied:
  - But you still have to run towards the enemy faster!
  And the six eternally young warriors rushed forward, flashing their bare, round heels.
  They ran along, and the girls sang beautifully and harmoniously. Their scarlet, ripe strawberry-like nipples sparkled on their chocolate breasts.
  And the voices are so strong and full-bodied that the soul rejoices.
  Komsomol girls are the salt of the Earth,
  We are like the ore and fire of hell.
  Of course, we have grown up to feats,
  And with us is the Holy Sword, the Spirit of the Lord!
  
  We love to fight very boldly,
  Girls, what space are you rowing in the universe...
  Russia's army is invincible,
  With your passion, in an unchanging battle!
  
  For the glory of our holy Motherland,
  A fighter jet circles wildly in the sky...
  I am a Komsomol member and I run barefoot,
  Splashing the ice that covered the puddles!
  
  The enemy can't scare the girls,
  They destroy all enemy missiles...
  The bloody thief will not stick his face in our faces,
  The exploits will be glorified in poems!
  
  Fascism attacked my homeland,
  He invaded so nightmarishly and insidiously...
  I love Jesus and Stalin,
  The Komsomol members are united with God!
  
  We rush barefoot through the snowdrift,
  Dashing as swift bees...
  We are the daughters of both summer and winter,
  Life has made the girl tough!
  
  It's time to shoot, so open fire,
  We are accurate, and beautiful in eternity...
  And they hit me right in the eye, not in the eyebrow,
  From the steel that is called the collective!
  
  Fascism will not overcome our redoubt,
  And the will is stronger than durable titanium...
  In the Fatherland we can find comfort,
  And to overthrow even the tyrant Fuhrer!
  
  A very powerful tank, believe me, the Tiger,
  He shoots so far and so accurately...
  Now is not the time for silly games,
  Because evil Cain is coming!
  
  We must overcome the cold and heat,
  And fight like a mad horde...
  The besieged bear became enraged,
  The soul of an eagle is not a pathetic clown!
  
  I believe that the Komsomol members will win,
  And they will raise their country above the stars...
  We started our hike from the Octoberites,
  And now the Name of Jesus is with us!
  
  I love my homeland very much,
  She shines radiantly for all people...
  The Fatherland will not be torn apart ruble by ruble,
  Adults and children laugh in happiness!
  
  It's fun for everyone to live in the Soviet world,
  Everything about it is easy and simply wonderful...
  May luck not break its thread,
  And the Fuhrer stuck his mouth out in vain!
  
  I'm a Komsomol member running barefoot,
  Although it's freezing, it's making your ears hurt...
  And there is no way out, believe the enemy,
  Who wants to take us and destroy us!
  
  There are no more beautiful words for the Motherland,
  The flag is red, as if blood shines in the rays.
  We will not be more obedient than donkeys,
  Victory will come, I believe, soon in May!
  
  Berlin girls will walk barefoot,
  They will leave footprints on the asphalt.
  We have forgotten the comfort of people,
  And gloves are not appropriate in war!
  
  And if there is a fight, let the fight begin.
  We'll scatter everything into pieces with Fritz!
  The Fatherland is always with you, soldier,
  Doesn't know what AWOL is!
  
  It's a pity for the dead, it's a grief for everyone,
  But not to bring the Russians to their knees.
  Even Sam submitted to the Fritzes,
  But the great guru Lenin is on our side!
  
  I wear a badge and a cross at the same time,
  I am in communism and believe in Christianity...
  War, believe me, is not a movie,
  The Fatherland is our mother, not the Khanate!
  
  When the Most High comes in the clouds,
  All the dead will rise again in a bright face...
  People loved the Lord in their dreams,
  Because Jesus is the Creator of the Table!
  
  We will be able to make everyone happy,
  Throughout the vast Russian universe.
  When any plebeian is like a peer,
  And the most important thing in the universe is Creation!
  
  I want to embrace the Almighty Christ,
  So that you never collapse before your enemies...
  Comrade Stalin replaced the father,
  And Lenin will also be with us forever!
  . CHAPTER #11.
  Pavel Rybachenko woke up and lay under the sails for a while. It was cool and cheerful. And in his imagination he drew:
  The fight between the Spanish Duke and Ratibor was extremely fierce. The opponents broke their spears three times, but on the fourth occasion, using a more powerful weapon and a thick log, de Boeuf finally knocked out
  His opponent from the saddle.
  Despite its enormous weight, the enemy is still quite mobile and difficult to deal with.
  Grigoriy had an association with the Klitschko brothers in his head, when their size is combined with decent speed. At the time when the boy left his time, talks about a possible fight between Vladimir Klitschko and Alexander Povetkin were still in progress. The time travelers could not know: whether the fight took place at all and how it ended. However, against the background of the Duke de Boeuf, Vladimir - the Steel Hammer would look like a mere boy.
  But it's okay... Maybe Ilya won't give in to the nobleman.
  However, the spear fights are over for today. The knights also need to rest.
  Regular boxing began. Naturally, there was no point in returning to the tradition of gladiator fights of ancient times. And the country is no longer the one to organize it...
  But boxing is not very interesting and Grigory, nodding off... fell asleep.
  And again, for the first time in many years, a vision of another parallel world appeared before him.
  Stalin's seventieth birthday was celebrated with great ceremony. Numerous guests were present, including the Fuhrer of the Third Reich.
  At the same time as the celebration, a joint flight to the Moon took place. Two great geniuses, designers Braun and Korolev, received the highest German and Soviet awards.
  The celebration is magnificent - for the first time, humanity sets foot on another planet.
  Von Braun explained to Stalin:
  - The hardest part of this project is not getting to the Moon, but getting back. Our engines already allow us to reach Mars with the help of a satellite. But if we want to save the lives of the astronauts, then it is necessary...nbsp; - Well, you are certainly a tough guy. You managed to defeat the hellish monster champion, but why did you have to get so drunk? - The one-eyed captain said.
  Korolev explained:
  - Make a five-stage rocket with a special ejection capsule!nbsp; Varnava shook the boy by the shoulder, Ramrod had already come to his senses and was standing nearby:
  & It launches to the surface of the Moon and returns back.
  The great leader of all times and peoples approved:
  - Clever, but effective - well done guys!
  And Stalin took a drag from his famous pipe, carved from mammoth tusk.
  The Fuhrer of the Third Reich made a remark to the leader:
  - You shouldn't smoke Koba. This poison makes your lungs resemble a Jewish garbage dump!
  After these words everyone burst out laughing. Stalin remarked with a grin:
  - Why specifically Jewish, and not, for example, Georgian?
  Hitler, with a fierce anger beginning to boil up, replied:
  - And therefore, if there is anything worse than a Jew, it is tobacco!
  Speer stated conciliatorily:
  - But great Fuhrer, Jews participated in both the rocket project and the creation of the atomic bomb.
  Hitler remarked sarcastically:
  - Koba dissuaded me from punitive actions against this people, but they still need to be watched - an eye for an eye!
  The launch can be watched through a huge, color TV screen. Or rather, nine screens at once showing the lunar flight in all its details.
  Stalin noted:
  - Right now the whole world is under our common control, and ahead there are billions of billions of stars and inhabited worlds. - And he added sternly. - Some of which, after our arrival, will become uninhabited.
  This joke was liked by everyone without exception. And here they show the launch of the ship - two men and a girl. They were chosen with an eye for photogenia. Strong-willed, beautiful faces, they are shown in close-up. And then they give the order...
  The Fuhrer, baring his teeth, remarked:
  - Still, the disc-like craft, on which we had pinned so many hopes, did not justify themselves. First of all, in terms of a means for space flights.
  Shamburger shook his shaggy, gray head:
  - You are not right with everything, my greatest. In fact, in terms of space exploration, disc-shaped aircraft are much more effective than standard rockets with the principle of jet propulsion.
  Stalin himself became curious:
  - Why is it more effective?
  The great designer explained:
  - Because the principle of controlled thermonuclear fusion is used in flying disks. This allows flying saucers to fly even to other worlds!
  The five-stage rocket took off, seemingly unhurriedly. The fire from its red tail illuminated the surrounding area. And what was the significance of this? Another page of human history had been turned. A flight to the Moon, what could be more wonderful than that? You could even compose laudatory odes on this topic.
  And the rocket flies, striving to carry man to the first celestial body he conquers.
  Stalin proposed a toast:
  - For our Soviet people, who are as well-oiled as cogs, but as strong as bolts!
  Glasses clinked and champagne and juice flowed. And from space came a message:
  - Entry into near-earth orbit is complete - all systems are normal!
  And here hundreds of supernovas begin to flare up in the sky symbolizing colorful fireworks on the occasion of a fantastic event. Moreover, the complexity and uniqueness of each stroke of the fairytale range is amazing. There are whole ornaments on a black background. And a lot of color.
  The famous Porsche designer noted:
  - Right now we are working on a machine that will be both a car and an airplane!
  Stalin approved of this impulse of the famous magnate, the creator of the invincible "Maus", a super tank that made it possible to conquer the seemingly impregnable British metropolis.
  - A tank and an airplane in one bottle - wonderful!
  Porsche corrected the leader of all times and peoples:
  - In this case, not a tank, but a car... After Japan's capitulation, the entire world united into a union of socialist states of the planet. We have a single government that controls the Earth... Why stamp out new tanks?
  Stalin logically noted:
  - Weapons, like real estate, are always in demand. You, Porsche, are of course a strong designer, but the invincible "Royal Panther" would never have been possible without Koshkin and Zwein.
  Porsche logically noted:
  - But without me and Aders and other guys too. We created eight main classes of tanks with a unified form. When the protection and the angle of the armor were brought to the maximum possible level, and the design became turretless. The Americans could not surpass such a tank. Their "Shermans", "Pershings" and others turned out to be powerless.
  Stalin remarked with a sigh:
  - But the Yankees fought stubbornly. I didn't think that a country of cowboys and gangsters would defend itself so stubbornly against superior forces, including units from almost the entire world. If it weren't for the use of virtually invulnerable flying discs, perhaps we wouldn't have managed to finish off the Orlan empire!
  The Fuhrer nodded angrily at this:
  - And here are the devils and two! I hope they won't go anywhere. There are also jet aircraft. For example, TA-class bombers, they've all been mixed up! And in general, the Second World War ended gloriously, and I hope there will never be a third!
  Stalin declared with delight:
  - But it will be the first star!
  This suggestion caused a storm of thunderous applause. And exclamations:
  - Give us Warsaw, give us Berlin! After all, the Red Army occupied Crimea!
  One of the new forms of entertainment was a staged war with paint shooting. Several teams fought at once. Field Marshal of the class Gross Guderian complained:
  - It's a pity that shooting paint at tanks is not as effective.
  Beria remarked to this:
  - We'll think of something else. For example, robots will soon be able to conduct military operations and then...
  Speer readily confirmed:
  - We have already created the first transistor computers. They are much more compact than vacuum tube computers. This means that in time it will be possible to create combat robots. Give them a pre-written program...
  Stalin is also interested in this:
  - And electronic bodyguards can also... That is, you can make cybernetic security?
  Speer confidently stated:
  - It is possible... But it will take years of painstaking work to achieve this. We are still, in essence, only taking our first steps. Robots with human capabilities or higher than human capabilities are still science fiction!
  The Fuhrer quite logically noted:
  - Both jet aircraft and the atomic bomb were once science fiction. But a few years passed and practical application occurred. In my opinion, there is nothing impossible. Only scientists are sometimes too lazy.
  After these words, Stalin laughed loudly:
  - That's why I put my people in sharashkas. There they have all the conditions for scientific research. And at the same time, neither family, nor entertainment, nor other nonsense distracts them from work!
  Speer readily confirmed:
  - Yes, great leader! Nothing distracts from socialist labor!
  Stalin smiled and added:
  - So this was the method during the war, and now there is peaceful construction and what does humanity need?
  Speer said with a businesslike air:
  - First, it needs to be fed... In general, this task is being successfully solved. The culture of agriculture is growing. Successes in selection are very solid. Plus, research in the field of genetics gives encouraging results.
  Stalin became even more interested:
  - And what are the results?
  Speer explained:
  - It is possible to cross genes of different plants or animals with each other. In this case, the results are amazing. The agricultural crop acquires the combined qualities of several life forms at once.
  The leader grinned:
  - Wow! This is something!
  Hitler boastfully remarked:
  - And we are now improving the human race by insemination. - Here the Fuhrer decided to brag. - But not only that. Now experiments are being conducted on the creation of surrogate mothers. So the production of the superman will be put on stream!
  Stalin nodded wearily:
  - Well, well! Communism demands a different people. Or rather, a people with two quality marks!
  The Fuhrer nodded in agreement:
  - Exactly! Therefore, perhaps this time humanity will finally gain stable power and more, we will not be shaken like a rattle in the hands of a baby who has done his business.
  Everyone laughed again at the Fuhrer"s unique, albeit sometimes black, humor.
  And the shootout was going on with varying success. And this battle cannot be compared with a real war. A real war is both more terrible and more interesting. Quite a few films have already been made about it, so why watch a surrogate? When they just spit scarlet paint at each other.
  Stalin changed the subject:
  - For example, will scientists be able to make me alone immortal?
  Bormann responded to this, nervously chewing his lips:
  - We invited a whole army of specialists in the occult sciences and yoga. All these sorcerers and magicians promise that they can defeat death. - And the man with the appearance of a gangster grinned fiercely. - But for some reason all these sorcerers either die themselves, or their ancestors kick the bucket!
  Stalin remarked with a sigh:
  - You know, Lenin died, but his work lives on. Although many said that the Bolsheviks would squabble after Lenin and the party would perish! But in fact, it turned out quite the opposite!
  Hitler remarked sarcastically:
  - And didn't you Bolsheviks squabble over each other?
  Stalin said arrogantly:
  - No! We didn't fight each other. There was just a big purge. All the trash was removed, the best and most trained personnel remained. So after Lenin, communism didn't die, but became even stronger...
  The Fuhrer proposed:
  - Well, let's drink to that...
  Here Hitler made an exception for himself:
  - Pour me some champagne too!
  Both great dictators clinked their glasses. And having tipped the contents into themselves, they began to sing...
  Grigory woke up from a jolt, from Leia's side. The girl angrily declared:
  - Yes, it's time to sleep. It's time to get down to serious business! Otherwise, you might lose your knack.
  Leia exclaimed indignantly:
  - You've been sleeping for ten hours already. This is some kind of real dream chaos!
  Gregory, with the smile of a awakened Buddha, agreed:
  - Yes, the sleep of reason sometimes gives birth to monsters. And in my case...
  The warrior commander couldn't find anything to say.
  Another day had already come and knights began to arrive at the lists again. Leia, however, was no longer watching. The messenger dove reported unexpected news. The Zulus had invaded the territory of Ethiopia, which was under the control of the Russian Empire. The warriors who had traveled had long received information that a vast state had formed in Africa, which united the entire south and most of the central regions.
  However, the information from the black continent was extremely contradictory. In addition, and this is unfortunately a tradition - it is customary to underestimate the capabilities of blacks.
  Such a contemptuous stereotype, or can black people do it at all? Although many scientists are inclined to believe that humanity originated in Africa. But alas, we are all weak in conceit. Therefore, the unexpected appearance of a powerful empire with an area of four Europes, and a population of two such continents, went unnoticed.
  The most alarming thing is that if the possibility of an invasion when the Manchus had completely conquered China was taken into account, and large forces with tanks and aircraft were standing by, then Ethiopia is almost defenseless. No one expected that a huge (how many exactly is not yet known!) army would invade from the south.
  In general, there was no telegraph or radio communication in Ethiopia at the time. Therefore, the message was carried to Sudan by a pigeon, and from there an urgent dispatch was sent.
  Leia reported this to Grigory. And without waiting for the end of the tournament, he suggested:
  - Let's rush together. And then we'll figure it out on the spot!
  Leia readily agreed:
  - That's right! The two of us will solve this problem ourselves. And if anything happens, the other voivodes will help us.
  Having briefly informed their friends about the force majeure, the fighting pair of supermen left the stadium.
  They rushed to the rescue of the subjects of Tsar Ivan Vasilyevich in Ethiopia. There was no point in getting on a plane. After all, they run much faster than any machine. The speed is even higher than the speed of sound, so there is no reason to use anything other than their own legs, which move faster than the blades of a propeller. The guys rush barefoot, so as not to tear their boots, and do pretzels and jumps. So they accelerate, but not at full speed of more than one and a half thousand kilometers per hour, but less. So as not to create dust so quickly and not to burn their heels beyond measure. Yes, it would not hurt to discuss what the unpredictable Africans can prepare for them. There may also be ideas.
  Leia suggested:
  - It is possible that in addition to the famous Voodoo magic, they will use something unexpected against us.
  Grigory, jumping and doing a somersault in flight, was forced to agree in this case:
  - Of course, they are preparing something not very pleasant for us, without any doubt. But we will be ready, as always, like the pioneers of Stalin's times, for any surprise!
  Leah asked a question:
  - What's the difference between a pioneer and a hard-boiled egg?
  Gregory immediately responded:
  - A hard-boiled egg needs to be boiled for fifteen minutes, but a pioneer is always ready!
  The warrior replied with a slight laugh:
  - No! And the fact is that he still has to grow up to the nickname - hard-boiled egg!
  Grigori laughed loudly. When you rush through the summer desert it is so much fun. The young man asked Leia a question:
  - Do you think that in another world, after the victory over Japan, there will be the First World War?
  The young warrior stated decisively:
  - Of course it will. After all, Germany was wronged when the colonies were divided, and Austria-Hungary had none at all. Turkey was beaten several times by Russia and lost a significant part of its territory. Everyone has enough reasons for war!
  Gregory quite logically noted:
  - You named reasons only from one side. What about the Entente?
  Leia giggled with a smile:
  - France lost the war of 1870-1871 to Germany. They are thirsty for revenge for lost lands and trampled honor. France has reasons to demand a war of revenge. Britain and Russia, in general, seem to have no particular incentive to fight.
  Grigori, for a change, ran on his hands, and began to throw his magic swords with his feet. The eternal boy even seriously regretted that he did not have a third hand. And also that he and Lei, although they can jump hundreds of meters high and even fly with special wings, are still almost zero in magic. If individual spells work, then only spontaneously. It seems like Harry Potter before studying at a special wizarding school.
  And magicians are afraid to give knowledge to a couple - they are already strong, beyond the limits of human understanding.
  Gregory expressed his dissenting opinion:
  - On the one hand, Britain already has enough colonies, which are not so easy to digest. But, firstly, they want to weaken Germany as a potential enemy, and secondly, for example, Namibia with its diamonds is a tasty morsel. And often the powers are never satisfied!
  Leia, also switching from her feet to her hands while running, added:
  - Russia also has reasons to fight Germany. In particular, Galicia was once part of Kievan Rus and Tsar Nikolai probably dreams of going down in history as the gatherer of all ancient Russian lands, as well as getting rid of a potential competitor.
  Gregory logically added:
  - And also to annex all Polish lands, completing the gathering of the Kingdom of Poland. Then Nikolai will also make his mark in history. Now, probably, he already has Yellow Russia under his wing, and now he will also become the gatherer of the Slavs.
  Leah expressed a different thought here:
  - Is an alliance with the Germans against the Entente possible for Russia?
  Gregory, juggling swords, remarked:
  - Such possibilities exist in principle. In general, if Nicholas II had not torn up the agreement on military alliance signed with Wilhelm, then perhaps there would not have been a revolution. In this case, the course of the First World War would have been completely different.
  Leia, whose graceful girlish legs were throwing up the swords with deftness, remarked:
  - If we estimate the approximate balance of forces, then Germany, fighting on one front, could have defeated France in a month and a half. As, by the way, happened in the forties of the twentieth century. In this case, three corps, which were recalled to East Prussia, could have decided the outcome of the battle.
  Grishka clarified:
  - Another six corps were withdrawn in September at the height of the Battle of the Marne. In this regard, the role of the Eastern Front is difficult to overestimate. Surely, a strike by all forces, better prepared for war than Germany in conditions when Britain had only just begun to transfer troops to the continent, could have decided the outcome of the war.
  The eternal boy threw the swords up a few times again, adding a couple of boulders to them, baring his teeth, and continued:
  - With the defeat of France and the capture of Paris, the English troops would have been doomed to defeat. They would have been ground to pieces. Russia might not even have had time to engage the French and English in a real battle. Apparently, it would have had to launch an offensive in the south, taking India and Iran for itself.
  Leia, although it was awkward, nodded her head and continued for her partner:
  - The most reasonable thing for the English to do, if they find themselves alone, is to make peace with Germany. Otherwise, Britain is doomed to lose its colonies, or even to be destroyed as a state.
  Italy, of course, would not have decided on a suicidal step - to enter a war with Wilhelm. As a member of the Triple Alliance, it would have made the most logical decision: it would have attacked Britain in order to profit from its colonies. Turkey, even more so, since in real history it was with the Germans. And in this situation, together with Russian troops, it began an offensive against Egypt. Of course, the small English troops were defeated, Egypt, and then other lands of Africa and Asia were lost to Britain. Japan would probably have declared war on Britain, swallowing up its colonies.
  Grigory, in order not to remain silent, added:
  - And the USA, which at that time was not yet strong militarily, probably did not dare to enter the war with such a formidable enemy as a whole coalition of the Old World countries. It is clear that if the English had gone the way of Mr. Churchill, only skulls and bones would have awaited them, the loss of everything!
  The boys ran on their hands, not in a hurry, and it would have been possible to talk to the end.
  Now that we're talking about Churchill, Leah expressed her own thoughts:
  - This is what seems the strangest thing in the history of the Second World War, that Britain, left without continental allies; France, Belgium, Holland, resolutely rejected even the very possibility of negotiations with the Third Reich and its allies. This kind of behavior by Churchill looks very stupid and completely unlike the mentality of the cold and, as a rule, reasonable Englishmen.
  Gregory noted:
  - Logically, Churchill's behavior is indeed difficult to explain. Even if he did not go for peace, then winning time through negotiations seemed logical. The metropolis had extremely weak land cover, the Germans could capture Britain using only thirty to forty divisions. Not to mention that the colonies in Africa and Asia were almost defenseless. The Germans could, having destroyed the base in Malta, establish their hegemony in Libya by supplying Rommel's troops, and the fall of Gibraltar completely deprived them - the British - of hope in the struggle for the Mediterranean. That is, Churchill, who in the metropolis had no more than thirty divisions equal in combat readiness to nineteen regular ones, had no chance of recapturing Europe. And he himself would survive. Count on the USA? But there is little point. They will not get into a fight with such a strong enemy. At least until he gets bogged down, that was with the campaign to the East, or until he himself declares war on them. By the way, if Hitler had not declared war on December 11, 1941, then perhaps the USA would not have come out against the Third Reich. Count on Stalin's attack? That the USSR would open a front in the East?
  But, firstly, Stalin himself could have declared war on Britain. In fact, he had three options. The first, as Churchill wanted and as Suvorov-Rezun lovingly described in "The Icebreaker", was a liberation campaign in Europe.
  But in this case, the Red Army had to fight a very strong and combat-ready armada of the Third Reich and its allies. The German armed forces alone numbered 7.2 million soldiers. And we should also add to this a fully combat-ready police force, as well as units of the Hitler Youth and other youth organizations with combat skills. Plus the troops of Germany's satellites: Romania, Hungary, Slovakia, Croatia, Bulgaria, Finland, Italy. It is also possible that Spain and Portugal, and Sweden, where the Nazis had a very strong influence, could violate neutrality in the event of an attack on the capital of Finland, Helsingi.
  That is, the first option: war with all of Europe, with an army that has proven its combat capability by occupying fourteen countries with fewer losses than the Red Armada had with Finland, which, by the way, they were unable to capture.
  And for what? Densely populated lands with a bourgeois spirit, relatively poor resources and probably a strong fifth column. It would not have been easy for the USSR to digest Europe, a country where people lived much better than in the Red Empire, even if it had won. In real history, Eastern Europe was never assimilated. And what if Western Europe had to be taught Marxism-Leninism as well?
  In addition, when the Red Army came to Europe, it was pretty much ruined and destroyed. And the people, accustomed to poverty, found it easier to digest the Bolshevik order. In addition, socialism in Eastern Europe was significantly softened. And these countries received a certain sovereignty and freedom of private property. They never became the fiefdom of the USSR.
  But if they had been captured while they were still not devastated by wars and the Bolshevik way of life had been planted there, then it would have been...
  In any case, the first option is a huge risk of losing the war, dubious gains. In general, as history teaches, it is practically impossible to assimilate a more cultured and numerous conquered people. Most likely, either control over it is lost or the conquering nation is subject to assimilation. Not to mention that Stalin's intelligence officers rather overestimated the power of the Wehrmacht than underestimated it.
  Stalin's second option was to join the Axis powers and declare war on Britain himself. Incidentally, this is exactly what Hitler suggested to him. In this case, the USSR could have gotten India, and maybe other colonies in Asia. The undoubted advantage of this option is that India and other places could have been captured almost without a fight. The sepoy troops and colonial units would most likely not have died for the crown, and there were very few British formations in India. So India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Iran would have retreated almost without a fight. Well, of course, there was practically no risk of losing the war. Only in Iran could there have been a guerrilla war, but they would most likely have installed a puppet government there. And the colonies themselves would have replaced one government with another; the slogans of the Bolsheviks are very popular in impoverished, downtrodden India and Pakistan.
  Stalin, however, apparently also demanded the Middle East, as well as control over Romania, Bulgaria, and Yugoslavia. Well, it is clear that the Germans needed oil in the Middle East, they could not give up much.
  The option was real and, at first glance, much safer and more profitable than the first.
  But there was a risk that after the defeat of Britain, Hitler would attack the USSR. And then they would have to fight, no longer having allies, one on one, or even having received a second front from Japan.
  Although of course, why would Germany, having grabbed so much land, fight the USSR? Perhaps, having divided the Eastern Hemisphere into four empires: Germany, the USSR, Italy, Japan, they calmed down.
  But who knows? The war could have broken out because of the eternal fear that your ally will betray you and attack first. Or, on the contrary, because of excessive trust, when someone becomes too weak.
  . CHAPTER #12.
  Pavel-Lev took another drink. This time not rum, but sweet wine, and again he dozed off and dreamed.
  The holiday of February 23, 1945 turned out to be tense and not very joyful. And the Fritzes were not asleep either and were making something of their own insidious.
  Oleg Rybachenko managed to observe the flight of the huge six-engine TA-400.
  The largest bomber in the world had not even six, but twelve engines. In addition to the propeller engines, there were also jet engines underneath, allowing it to reach speeds of over 720 kilometers per hour. In case it was necessary to evade an attack by enemy fighters. The range of the aircraft with propeller engines is, of course, higher. More than 8,000 kilometers - where can the B-29 with its 5,000 be? The TA-400 could bomb Soviet factories at great depth. And thirteen aircraft cannons gave it the ability to do without fighter cover.
  The Germans were trying to undermine the Soviet defense power. One of the most tempting targets was Novosibirsk with the largest Yak factory in the USSR. But the problem was that it was located very far from the front line. In fact, even the TA-400 was on the verge of its maximum range. The Germans also had a B-18 development without a tail, but it would not reach such a range.
  Then the Fritzes cheated a little and launched a bombing attack from a British base in the Indian Ocean. It was quite possible to get there that way. And they had amassed planes for a massive strike. They were counting on causing enormous damage. Moreover, no one had driven production underground yet - they thought the Fritzes wouldn't get there anyway.
  But yesterday's allies had already reached the final stage of betrayal and did not want to stop halfway.
  And the TA-400s cross the southern Soviet border one after another. Night and winter gloom are all around...
  Oleg Rybachenko woke up and yawned widely, muttering:
  - This place is turning into hell!
  In order to somehow distract myself from astral or mental visions, I wanted to write some kind of fantasy story. For example, about Alisa Selezneva. Or Arbuzik and Bebeshka. The latter seemed simpler, since the boys' adventures are not finished and generally lasted only two relatively short stories. And Alisa Selezneva, on the contrary, too much has been written about her, even somehow implausibly - when this girl managed to do everything and visit so many places. Although, of course, the space theme, and even with a touch of fantasy, also made the story interesting, but ... Oleg Rybachenko had long dreamed of continuing the work with undeveloped heroes. And Alisa has already eaten everything. And the mentality of a boy is much closer to him than that of a girl. It is easier to try on yourself.
  Four ships led by the "Liberator" cut through the foamy sea surface and hurried to a large island, where the country was located, where King Dularis once ruled. A warm, humid wind blew in the tropical waters of unknown worlds. The ship was built by children from the ordinary world of the USSR in 1960 (and why this date? Well, obviously the times described were too primitive for the late stagnation (TVs are practically not mentioned!), and with great faith in a better future. But at the same time, much more relaxed than Stalin's... But there was no hint about Gagarin's flight, which means not long before it!).
  And the guys on the usually sailing ship are full of joy after a difficult triumph in the land of blue fogs. Considering that none of them died, then...
  But then the breeze becomes fresher, and whitecaps begin to graze in the sea.
  Arbuzik suddenly felt a little uneasy. It wasn't just that the barometer was showing a drop in pressure, but also that he seemed to have missed something important. Something without which the matter could not be considered finished.
  The captain of the ship, just like almost the entire crew, an eleven-year-old boy named Bebeshka, gave the order:
  - Trim the sails and secure the mast.
  Previous experience, when they were almost drowned by a storm, suggested that they needed to reduce the area on which the wind pressed. But the waves began to grow smoothly but inexorably, the wind quickly grew stronger, and it became colder.
  The boys, accustomed to the warmth, or even tropical heat, quickly pulled their boots onto their freezing feet. Only Arbuzik, accustomed to the coolness of the underground basement, remained barefoot, rightly believing that it was much more agile and easier to stay on the slippery deck. The sky was already covered with clouds and it began to drizzle.
  The fly agaric looked around anxiously and squeaked:
  - Now it will pour and throw...
  Baby answered calmly:
  - We will fight the storm - as pioneers should!
  Like a cobra from an ambush, a wave burst forth and small, stinging splashes doused the children. The girl Veronica exclaimed:
  - Peterhof fountains!
  Baby smiled and remarked:
  - No less beautiful, but more insidious! And most importantly, multi-faceted like Fabreo!
  Arbuzik finally remembered and exclaimed loudly:
  - Guys! I have to disappoint you - the main evil is yet to come!
  Baby, realizing that his friend wouldn"t just chat, asked in an anxious voice:
  - Did we miss something?
  Arbuzik answered logically:
  - Life is a chain, and the little things in it are links, you can"t ignore the importance of a link!
  Baby also responded to this passage in unison:
  - But you can"t get hung up on little things - otherwise the chain will envelop you!
  Veronica waved her hands vigorously:
  - Oh, boys... When you express yourself like gray-haired professors, you become so boring!
  A silver fish fell at Arbuzik's bare feet. The boy immediately threw it back into the sea and shouted over the noise of the waves:
  - Or, to put it more simply, in which country did Fabreo get such a powerful bomb, capable of blowing up a not-so-small island?
  Baby nodded in agreement and confirmed:
  - Exactly... Green-tailed, bomb, missile boat... These are links in the same chain!
  Arbuzik immediately confirmed:
  - Including six-barreled pistols. They are completely new, although there were no weapons factories on the island of Dularis!
  Another wave that had flown in prevented them from putting the mosaic together into a single picture. The storm had suddenly intensified. The boys were forced to cling to the masts, using their previous experience of tying themselves with ropes. And Baby at the helm tried to hold the ship, with its nose to the waves... The roar of the waves and the piercing whistle of the wind merged into a deafening, eardrum-smashing cannonade.
  The neighboring sailboats were scattered in different directions and disappeared from sight. And many of the boys, like last time in a similar storm, became sick. About a third of the young sailors fell seasick. They were nauseous and sick, their faces turned pale. One boy was badly bruised by a blow to the mast. The bone apparently cracked and the shoulder immediately swelled. The girls Larisa, Natasha and Veronica immediately wrapped the wounded man.
  Taking into account the previous experience, Bebeshka ordered to strengthen the ship's hull. But the boys forgot to do this in their joy. Besides, they were in too much of a hurry to sail away. They wanted to see the country of Bomboko and at the same time get back as quickly as possible - so as not to worry their parents too much.
  Although the summer holidays were long and they had some reserves. Arbuzik remarked in great annoyance:
  - Storms are usually rare here, especially in summer, but we were really unlucky!
  Baby answered according to Suvorov:
  - You might get lucky once or twice, but without skill, luck goes away!
  As if to confirm the boy's words, a large wave covered the sailboat, and poisonous splashes broke the top of the keel. The boys rushed to patch it up using the durable plywood they had prepared in advance. However, the screw nails entered the damp wood with difficulty, and the hull was in danger of simply bursting from the shock.
  And the water penetrated through the hole like snakes sent by a poisoner into the Shah's palace. It hissed and gurgled disgustingly.
  Arbuzik and the guys piled on, and even the sailor's suit burst from the strain. And the patch finally fixed the raging stream. The guys, losing their strength, rushed to scoop it out. The ship itself, heavy and broken, resembled a flat tire.
  Baby, gritting his teeth, gave the order:
  - Cut down the mast!
  Pavlik threw the chainsaw onto the tree.... It had already saved them once. Then, having cut through half, the toothy "shark" suddenly jammed. The half-sawn mast bent and creaked ominously. Arbuzik, in desperation, struck the ropes with an axe, his fingers growing numb from fatigue. The rope did not give in, and the boy screamed in rage, and moved harder... And received a blow like a horse's hoof to the chin. And the mast finally snapped with a crash and plopped into the purple waves.
  Having received relief, the ship moved much more easily. The tired Arbuzik crawled up to Bebeshka, the young captain desperately fought with the steering wheel. And Arbuzik's face was half swollen blue, the boy looked beaten and exhausted. Nevertheless, he found the strength to whisper loudly enough:
  - There is a man more dangerous than Fabreo... And he should be dealt with before he causes great harm!
  The baby asked anxiously:
  - And who is this?
  Arbuzik whispered barely audibly:
  - A crazy scientist... He promised to make many thousands like Fabreo...
  Baby didn't have time to answer, water started to come into the bow again and Arbuzik, having gathered the rest of his strength, rushed with the guys to the embrasure of the treacherous water... Hammers pounded in his head from the colossal tension, and his muscles literally tore at the seams. Even some strangely familiar song played: "rivers, seas, straits - how much harm they do! It's not beer that ruins people, it's water that ruins people!"
  And water is a truly destructive element, and it is not for nothing that it can grind a diamond into powder. The guys fought desperately, they first got a second wind, and then a third. They pumped out the water, mended the holes, but the blue liquid still managed to arrive and leak. Moreover, the already dark night sky was covered with impenetrable clouds, which made this wild hurricane even more frightening. And then suddenly the inky skies split and lightning struck.
  First one sparkling thread, then several, and a blinding cascade began to fall. From which everything acquired some mystical, unique shade. As if the gates of the anti-world opened and predatory tongues from the underworld reached out to them.
  The baby, choking from superhuman tension, screamed:
  - It's just a discharge of electricity! Don't be afraid!
  But in fact, the boy was literally sick with fear. If such a thing hit, the wooden ship could burst into flames or even fall apart. It seems that wood soaked in sea water does not burn, but due to internal evaporation it is destroyed. Oh, why didn't they take a lightning rod with them, although perhaps with so many lightning bolts it would have been of little use.
  Seryozhka got a severe bruise from another roll, and lost his mind. The girls rushed to douse him... Three bumps swelled up on his forehead at once, and scarlet blood flowed from his nostrils.
  Baby made a desperate decision, yelling. His hoarse voice barely covered the roar of the ocean and the thunderous shaking of the air:
  - Pavlik, cut down the second mast!
  Of course, this meant being left without masts and losing speed. But the big island was not far away, and three neighboring ships would help if necessary.
  Pavlik didn't have enough strength to cut the mast, and the chainsaw seemed to have lost its gas, they forgot to refuel it. Bebeshka secured the steering wheel by simply shoving a chest under the horn, jamming it tightly, and rushed to help Pavlik. The axe seemed slippery and tiresomely heavy. He had to grit his teeth and squeeze his fingers as tightly as possible so as not to fall. The boots were not very comfortable for the deck, the soles were slipping, although the clever young captain had attached a pad with spikes to them. The blow was painfully felt in his elbows and back... Bebeshka tried to summon up rage in himself, recalling the pictures of the destruction of the city after the bombings to which the capital of the island was subjected on the orders of Fabreo.
  Another blow, and another... The main thing is to hit the same hollow made by the sharp blade. But it doesn't work. The wood on the deck is strong - select oak - and doesn't give in to the slightly dulled axe.
  Pavlik suddenly jumps off the deck... Baby whispers in annoyance:
  - Coward...
  And this makes him angry. More unsuccessful blows follow. Sometimes they miss, sometimes they fail to take the fulcrum and after another jolt of the wave the boy-captain falls... And hits the deck with his nose... Cherry juice stains the pine boards, and the wood cracks indignantly.
  Baby stands up with great difficulty and again rushes with the axe at the mast. Pavlik jumps out. It seems that a candle is burning in his hand, sending out sparks. And he runs around putting it in the mast.
  Baby guesses:
  - Dynamite! Be careful!
  Pavlik, jumping away from the mast, sang:
  - A pioneer knows that he does not groan in pain, a nuclear explosion does not frighten him! He will not drown in the depths of the sea, his spirit will not burn in the plasma of the stars!
  And a dim flash blazed up, throwing off the mast, as well as one of the well-fastened lifeboats. Fortunately, the deck itself survived, only covered in soot. The explosion itself seemed quiet against the background of the roar and groan of the awakened elements.
  The ship, having thrown off its balance, rose a little, and it became much easier to bail out water. And so, little by little, the keel leveled out...
  Dawn came and the waves began to dissolve rapidly, like sugar in boiling water, in the mirror-like surface of the sea. The tired boys fell into a deep sleep...
  Waking up, Baby immediately felt pain in his arms and stiffness in his body. He opened his eyelids and gasped. Fifteen tightly tied boys and three girls were piled up in the cramped cabin. That is, their entire team. The light bulb in the ceiling flickered green, which made everything seem even more ominous and scary. The boys were falling, screaming and tossing and turning, trying to untangle themselves.
  Arbuzik seemed to be one of the first to wake up, and already having experience in the dungeon, Fabreo managed to free his left hand from the ropes, and desperately tried to free himself completely.
  The little baby asked him, somewhat stupidly:
  - Well, we've found ourselves a shelter...
  Arbuzik answered with pathos:
  - A man is always free until he becomes afraid of captivity!
  Pavlik spoke up, suggesting:
  - They tied us up in our sleep while we were resting from the storm!
  Baby answered ironically:
  - Your insight amazes me. I would need a month of reflection to come to such a conclusion!
  Arbuzik wittily remarked:
  - A joke is good when it's time, a spoon in the dinner, and help in trouble! In this situation, humor will not hurt us!
  Bebeshka reasonably suggested:
  - Let us untangle everything first!
  The idea was well received and the boys bit the ropes with their teeth, or began to pull the rods synchronously, helping each other.
  But suddenly the cell became lighter and the doors swung open with a roar. The children saw the predators' carnivorous jaws. Some of the kids had never seen green-tailed ones before and their eyes widened in fear. They really did look like crocodiles with the body of a gorilla. The tallest one was much taller than two meters, and three rows of long, sharp teeth sparkled in his mouth. His head was crowned with a titanium helmet with the emblem of King Dularis. And two more thugs in dark green uniforms and helmets followed him. The green-tailed ones held six-barreled pistols at the ready, and their eyes glowed unkindly.
  The senior member of the carnivorous predator team roared:
  - The whole team is here, and the leaders? What a stroke of luck!
  Watermelon snorted contemptuously and answered bravely:
  - Your King Baldwin will not rule the Island of Blue Mists anyway. The people will not support a return to despotism!
  The leader of the green-tailed monsters grinned maliciously and roared:
  - I think the chicks will soon understand what awaits them and will lose their impudence!
  The sound of an opening door was heard, and as if by magic, Fabreo appeared in front of the boys!
  The head of the secret police and former dictator of the island of blue mists was resplendent in his dress uniform and looked spick and span. The king of espionage looked at the boys with a triumphant look and said in a nasal voice:
  - And you thought that I died... And the yellow-mouthed little fry?! But in reality you see me healthy and full of strength!
  The children were confused, and Larisa began to cry in fear. Some boys began to back away in fear. The resurrected Fabreo seemed more frightening, thousands of green-tailed ones with guns. Especially since many people saw how the dictator burst, leaving nothing behind except a wet spot. And here he appeared as a ghost, but he clearly did not look like a ghost.
  Arbuzik fearlessly accepted the challenge:
  - Evil is full of strength when good is weakened by fear! Do not be afraid of the villain, he himself will be afraid of you!
  Fabreo looked at the impudent, half-tied boy with disdain. He remarked pompously:
  - I'm afraid of you! Right now I'll order you all to be thoroughly flogged and then you'll beg for mercy in tears!
  The green-tailed ones have weighty whips in their hands, and their predatory mouths have bared their teeth in grins. It looks like they are happy to carry out the orders of the once pathetic human spy. The whips have steel thorns on the ends, and if one of them gets stuck in the skin...
  A low voice suddenly roared deafeningly from the speaker on the ceiling:
  - Don't touch them yet, Fabreo. Let them feel like honored guests!
  The dictator shook his medals, one of them let sunbeams from a golden skull onto the titanium walls of the chamber. After which he saluted someone invisible and left. The rest of the green-tailed followed him.
  The armored doors of the cell closed and the boys found themselves in semi-darkness again.
  Baby listened to his feelings. The camera vibrated, as if they were floating in a submarine. But it was hardly noticeable. The young captain expressed his opinion:
  - Probably a green-tailed flying ship, it can also swim underwater... Powerful technology!
  Arbuzik, energetically getting rid of the ropes, agreed:
  - That's probably how it was. Prince Baldwin was saved, taking with him all the treasures of the kingdom.
  Pavlik said with confidence:
  - But if there are only three green-tailed ones, plus the king and the chief spy, then there are nineteen of us and we can...
  Baby whispered a warning:
  - No harshness! Greentails are very strong physically, they have very dangerous guns in their hands.
  Arbuzik, shaking off the ropes, suggested:
  - In any case, we should untie ourselves!
  The appearance of a living Fabreo was indeed frightening, but... Arbuzik remembered how this scoundrel said that he was now immortal and from the cell of his little finger they could create thousands of such scoundrels. As if Fabreo would populate the entire world and rule all of humanity.
  It seems they were a little late and the evil had time to multiply and grow to terrifying proportions.
  The dust from the ropes got into Arbuzik's nose, making him sneeze. After which the boy, finally freed, rushed to help the others. There were marks from the tight hemp on his hands and ankles. Apparently, the green-tailed ones tied them up with whatever they had at hand.
  Baby, also untangling himself, suggested:
  - If Fabreo is alive, then he probably has a base from which he is preparing his return.
  Arbuzik corrected his friend:
  - Maybe not even him, but the country from which the spy brought the bomb.
  After these words, Baby shuddered and whispered:
  - Then things are bad for us!
  Arbuzik, as if not understanding, asked:
  - And why is that?
  Baby reluctantly explained:
  - We will have to deal with a whole country, and a technologically advanced one at that. And this is not at all what we were fighting against before!
  Arbuzik, helping another boy to free himself, logically noted:
  - They have people who are dissatisfied with the regime, their own Ali and Bomboko, and I believe we will not be alone!
  Baby sighed heavily. He had not yet recovered from the storm and looked listless. And in general, his mood had somehow worsened. When you defeat evil and it disappears forever, that's one thing. But when it returns and it turns out that there was no victory, then disappointment empties the heart.
  It turns out that they... Fought in vain? Although no, the Island of Blue Mists is free, there is already a new president Ali, and the people will not return to slavery. And they will soon find a way to finish off the last villains of the fairy-tale world.
  The boys had barely managed to free themselves completely when the movement of the submarine-spaceship hybrid stopped. The bright light came on again and the doors swung open, but on the other side. Menacing shouts followed:
  - Get out, bugs!
  The children moved along the corridor, and suddenly there was a ramp and a wide concrete field in front of them. And immediately an unpleasant discovery. Several dozen large, turtle-like machines, but with tank muzzles, lined up in neat columns on the striped surface. And green-tailed ones were bustling around them. Many of these terrible creatures with fanged mouths and some kind of fancy weapons. The armored turtles vaguely resembled Tiger tanks, which the children had once seen in a museum when they were brought on an excursion to Novgorod. True, here the works of militant thought were larger and seemed more terrible.
  Baby, being the smartest of all the children, muttered:
  - Mommy... give birth to me again!
  Arbuzik, deftly slapping his bare soles on the metal corpse heated by the sun, and maintaining inexhaustible optimism, replied:
  - Don't be stupid, friend! Technology is not scary anyway when there are no scoundrels controlling it!
  To distract himself, the little boy began to count tanks. Arbuzik was jumping up and down comically, the steel had already become very hot in the summer sun and was baking his bare heels, which made the boy jump up and down faster, trying to jump onto the lighter, and therefore not so hot, concrete. The other boys hurried to put their wet shoes back on, which was not very pleasant, but much safer.
  In addition to the tanks, four more helicopters were circling above the airfield. They really do have a frightening shape - a body in the form of a predatory piranha with skillfully drawn teeth. So realistic that at some point it seemed that they were alive. And when the helicopter flew over them, the girls screamed in fear, and the boys stopped, raising their fists.
  Further beyond the airfield, the jungle was visible. Not quite ordinary, as very large and lush flowers grew on the trees. But despite all the brightness of the colors and the elegance of the forms, there was something sinister in these buds, giving off the chilling breath of an old woman with a scythe.
  Up close, Bebeshka saw the tracks of squat tanks hidden under the armor, covering the entire bottom. The armor is thick and lined with tiles...
  The thought of chocolate sent agonizing cramps through their stomachs. They hadn't eaten in a long time, and the stubborn battle with the storm had taken a lot of energy and calories.
  The green-tailed men accompanying the boys lined them up on the green line and dryly ordered:
  - Line up according to height!
  This, as always, caused a pause. This is how children usually like to think they are taller than others. Baby and Watermelon stood next to each other. They looked at each other sullenly.
  They remained silent, so basically there was nothing to say yet. Only Pavlik whispered to them:
  - There is a strong army here!
  Baby answered angrily:
  - What don't we see? How to defeat this army?
  Arbuzik answered briefly:
  - Shut up!
  The green-tailed ones continued to circle around their cars and seemed not to pay attention to the captives. Only a dozen of the creatures guarding the guys did not take their eyes off and kept their machine guns with wide barrels at the ready.
  The two-legged crocodiles in spotted uniforms, something like khaki and helmets, began to growl from time to time, and then fell silent and blinked their eyes. The wait became agonizing. What else were the green-tailed ones planning? What kind of nasty thing were they planning to do?
  And here came another winged monster. It looked like a three-story helicopter with four huge propellers. The powerful blades raised a strong wind. The boys and girls involuntarily closed their eyes, the air was hitting them.
  The car landed on a tracked chassis and a wide ramp emerged from it to the sound of music.
  Fifty green-tailed ones marched in step down the ramp. They even started singing:
  - His Majesty the King,
  A huge amount!
  The fuller our belly is,
  The king will devour the pain!
  And then, as if on an escalator, in a chair abundantly strewn with diamonds, descended His Majesty King Baldwin the First. Fat, with a very nasty and flabby face, pot-bellied like a boy. An unpleasant type with an unusually stupid face and some kind of overgrown hair, which is why he doesn't look much like a human being at all.
  The throne chair on wheels and with a motor rolled the august glutton to the line of children. And Baldwin stupidly hiccupped and squeaked:
  -Boom-Bang!
  The king was apparently hungry, and a capsule of food flew up to him to the sound of a siren. When the translucent top was thrown back, the smell of fried meat, garlic and sauce wafted in. A whole boar framed by frog legs and a skinned lamb were piled high on the table. Baldwin began to devour the food with relish, washing it down with some kind of cloudy swill.
  Vitka Ushatik, who had become unbearable to watch the gluttony, suddenly blurted out:
  - Maybe your majesty will give us something too?
  The king suddenly answered coherently:
  - He who does not work, exists!
  And the green-tailed ones cried out in chorus:
  - Golden words, your majesty!
  - Then choke on it! - Fly Agaric shouted insolently.
  The king apparently didn"t understand and blurted out:
  - No matter how much you praise me, I still won"t give you anything to eat!
  After these words the children burst into laughter. The green-tailed escort followed suit. Apparently it looked extremely funny, especially the crown, fastened with gilded bandages to the monarch's hairy, unkempt head - small and tasteless.
  Baby noted ironically:
  - Being a laughing stock is not fun, making others cry is not boring!
  Arbuzik continued with unexpected pathos:
  - When the gods want to make themselves laugh, humanity cries!
  To this the fly agaric responded cheerfully, showing his thin tongue:
  - There are no gods! Pioneers don't believe in God or the devil!
  Baby answered almost seriously:
  - Well, that's exactly what I see in front of me!
  Indeed, having gotten dirty in the greasy sauce, having smeared the banana garnish on his cheeks, King Baldwin lost his human appearance even more. And when they brought a huge cake with roses for dessert, then...
  Fabreo's appearance was sudden, as if he had jumped out of the concrete. The scoundrel unceremoniously yelled at the king:
  - It's time to take off, your majesty!
  He shook like jelly from a stuck fly and cackled:
  - And the cake?
  Fabreo carelessly threw him a cambric handkerchief and growled:
  - You'll finish eating it on the helicopter... - And throwing a fierce glance at Arbuzik, he added: - We'll take this partisan with us!
  King Baldwin began to rattle in fear:
  - But sir commander, why do we need this dangerous boy?
  Fabreo replied fiercely:
  - We need him to catch Ali! And in general, follow me and don't ask questions!
  The green-tailed grabbed Arbuzik by the elbows and dragged him to the three-story helicopter palace. The boy felt helpless in their strong hands. Of course, five pull-ups and ten push-ups are extremely few for a real soldier of the Fatherland. More systematic and persistent training is needed, and better in a section. Although this may not help: the green-tailed have the strength of a beast.
  The two thugs only got in each other's way and bumped their jaws. Finally they climbed onto the ramp and the escalator pulled them up. Fabreo saw Arbuzik off with an indifferent look. The chief spy made the first part of his plan and cast an angry glance at the line of guys.
  The evil cobra hissed:
  - The best and safest thing for me is to shoot you on the spot!
  The green-tailed ones immediately bristled with wide-barreled machine guns. Baby felt a sad emptiness in his stomach, and fear crept up to his heart. Their lives were about to end and they would leave... As an excellent pioneer, Baby shouldn't have believed in hell or heaven, but the absolute emptiness of non-existence was much more frightening than cauldrons of boiling tar. As if you didn't exist at all: no light, no sound, no air, no thoughts... It was scary...
  The girls also began to cry quietly, and the boys began to sob. They were not cowards, but when you stand like this in front of carnivorous predators with insidious weapons, and you yourself do not even have a stick at hand. The little girl suddenly remembered one book. On the cover, too, there were pioneer heroes standing in front of the Nazis. Red ties fluttered in the wind, and the children's eyes looked straight ahead, fearlessly. No, they will not tremble before the enemy.
  Baby exclaimed bravely, raising his hand in salute:
  - A pioneer is always ready to die for his country!
  The boys repeated the salute in unison, exclaiming:
  - Always ready!
  . CHAPTER #13.
  Pavel-Lev woke up again... Barefoot girls started walking on his back. And it was fun. Natasha nodded and roared:
  - You are a super man!
  Pavel-Lev nodded:
  - Yes, I'm also hyper!
  After which he drank some rum again and began to snore loudly:
  Vladimir Rybachenko, aka Friedrich Bismarck, continued his hard and shameful path of betrayal. He found himself in a vicious circle and could no longer stop. And to be honest, the thrill of battle and extermination carried him away. Especially since he had already managed to make three women's bellies in Germany, one of whom was Goering's number one wife. Or maybe four, that's how much the girls love him - a poster Aryan, even if he is still a boy.
  Vladimir-Friedrich brought the number of downed aircraft to four hundred and eighty in seven days of the offensive, and covered four hundred and fifty tanks and self-propelled guns, guns of all calibers, including Katyushas, almost a thousand. Thus, he worked as if he were an entire army. He flew like a swift eagle almost around the clock, without getting out of the cockpit. And there was so much energy and fury in this seemingly fourteen-year-old boy. He clearly saw the battle pattern and all the enemies, intuitively felt the ambush batteries, etc. It was not for nothing that the Germans moved so quickly along the Volga, covering more than two hundred kilometers in seven days and breaking out into operational space.
  Such major successes on the eastern section of the front, with a viscous breakthrough in the center of the Moscow and Ryazan direction, paving the way with corpses. Vladimir felt as if he had dissolved with the demonic force awakened in him. He didn't even want to sleep. But on the eighth day, in the morning he added twenty-seven more planes to the piggy bank, and thirty-two tanks, with fifty guns, the boy fell asleep.
  And again he dreamed of something wondrous and marvelous.
  The ace boy scattered another bunch of knight-dogs along the way. If it's war, then act like it's war.
  Here they throw daggers at him, blows with swords pass, but the wounds disappear almost immediately, which greatly encouraged Vladimir-Friedrich. After all, he really did become a superman, at least from the flesh. Or something like a Knight-Clone. How he trims iron bushes, if he didn"t have such wonderful kladenets, the swords would not have withstood such a pace. Even Elena became annoyed, she was losing the leading role in the pair. After all, now Vladimir-Friedrich is the undisputed leader among the time-travelers. How good he is, especially when he kicks. This is how the top of his leg is thrown out and with his right leg three are in flight, and when landing with his left leg, it lies down. The strongest are the four, consisting of Stif One-Eyed, Anders Shirak, Balu Borka and one of the most powerful sorcerers-druids in Scandinavia.
  The last one even before the battle even the chosen ones drink a combat brew that increases speed and endurance. Reaction speed too. Although it is dangerous to drink such a potion too often, after it you sleep like a dead person for three or four days. And you need to hurry, until the potion stops working. Surely the most seven-veined Viking warriors thought of this plan in advance, that the four of them would easily defeat their supernatural enemy.
  Vladimir-Friedrich, however, rushed on further, deafening the enemy with his singing;
  Although it seems like they have pushed us against a ravine,
  A terrible nightmare has come.
  I can sing a saga to my friend -
  In which the hellish demon is resurrected!
  
  A siren sounds a menacing alarm,
  It's as if there's a fire blazing here...
  Not everyone can live, believe me, without God,
  But to really build up, know the blow!
  
  The boy is also a warrior from birth,
  As steel and lava splashes in it.
  But I want to ask for one thing: forgiveness,
  That my fist is not a crowbar for the enemy!
  
  Although it is more likely just valor,
  Fighting is sometimes necessary.
  But don't throw it in the trash can like a conscience,
  Don't get carried away by this hellish game!
  
  Who knows if life in this world,
  Everything in our world is true: a shadow, a mirage.
  We will bring criminals to justice,
  When will we be able to instantly catch the courage!
  
  And if you lost something in battle,
  And you couldn't defeat the scum...
  We'll open it anyway, believe me, we'll give it a try,
  And let's cross out the failed zeros!
  
  Everyone can definitely achieve success in battle,
  When there is strength and full of intelligence!
  And even a copper penny will give a rain of evil,
  The country will glorify the brave man in the anthems!
  In his dream, Vladimir-Friedrich was already so furious that he had saddled his white horse.
  But the enemy kept coming at him. While encouraging each other, they seemed not to notice how mercilessly they were being struck by swords or the swift bare feet of the boy. And how could it be otherwise? After all, cowards or the weak are not allowed to compete at such a level. This is precisely the flower of chivalry. Here one howl managed to put his sword down, parrying a kick. He cut the boy's skin. And what? He didn't even feel the pain, he was so used to being wounded. He moved again and was completely out cold. So he had to respond with growls and snorts. It was even funny to the point of insanity! And were the enemies completely beaten? But they sped up their run, only running into swords better. Two giants roared like wounded bears and shortened the distance to the boy warrior. He seemed to take pity on them. Yes, under the feet so that both collided with their foreheads, sparks literally rained down, though not from the eyes, but from the helmets. But the blockheads twitched and fell silent. How saturated with blood was the distance of about one hundred and forty meters. This should be available to every warrior to have a big heart, but little fear and a huge sense of responsibility!
  Yes, it was a bit unfair to fight while being immortal, but alas, honor is a relative concept in war. It was logical: after all, two bears do not live in the same den, but two morals get along well in one person with the mindset of a predator! The best of the remaining ten now almost deliberately lagged behind, counting on wearing out the enemy. In fact, they could have put up strong resistance in a skirmish. It was at this moment that the four "kings of the jousting grounds" strengthened by the potion of magical power clearly wanted to time their attack.
  Vladimir-Friedrich, of course, understood this, but was not afraid. Whatever a child might do, as long as he doesn't hang himself. And what vultures appear in the sky. And not of earthly types, even though the battle is taking place on planet Earth. And here, for example, is a creature: the first third of the body has the needles of a large hedgehog, the second is like the scales of a fish, the third has the petals of cornflowers. And the wings, below like a butterfly, and above, like playing cards. Oh, what antics began.
  However, he could not be intimidated. And there was no talk of a conspiracy of geniuses, a typical tactic of Napoleon's Marshal Davout. Just jump if the enemy is a loser. However, the boy thought, maybe he was wrong to think so badly of them - he was counting on military training, luck and natural mutual assistance.
  Elena, even prompting, exclaimed:
  - A tiger in ambush is dangerous until it twists its fangs... and a man is helpless until he flashes a bright invention! - Vladimir-Friedrich finished the sentence for his friend!
  Maybe they had their sights set on something, but the time traveler became a real warrior. Even if it was in a dream!
  But as soon as they tried to plot, the young time traveler did it again out of the blue. He suddenly, although it seemed impossible in principle, forced his run, and the swords were already beating so that several knights fell, although even the blade did not touch them. Now a pirate stood in his way, also pumped up with the potion, Don Cesar de Bazan. He, especially under the influence of the magical dope, could have put up serious resistance. The sea robber threw a dagger at Vladimir-Friedrich, but the boy intercepted the blade with his bare toes and immediately threw it back. The dagger flew along a complex trajectory and the thug was unable to parry it when the tip pierced right into the solar plexus. The thrown mace was also intercepted. The boy caught up with the stopped sorcerers and, even at a distance, began a tactically sudden dashing attack, throwing a trophy club, which did not take long to snore over. But everyone, probably, at first laughed that they would have to fight a poor ragamuffin. The lethal weapon had a peculiarity, that it was also enchanted, and its destructive flight was easy to miss. It turned out, the "projectile" fell with such force on the body of the enemy, who had put a shield in front of him, that the powerful metal plate burst, and the enchanted warrior himself was thrown back five meters, knocked down like a bull in a slaughterhouse.
  This is classic class!
  At another moment, the next opponent fell to the ground with a scream, his wrist broken and his ribs cracked from a blow from the second sword. If the armor had not been tempered by magic, the mighty fighter would have found himself in the most elegant manner, cut to pieces.
  Well, even Bilan won't help them here. And everything impossible is possible!
  And Vladimir-Friedrich, to the enthusiastic roar of the crowd, raced even faster. It cannot be said that he had already won. He did not even plunge into a swearing trance, unlike the notorious bersekts. Helping to clear the way for himself with his swords, he sped up his run to the maximum. Although, what can be considered the limit. The speed of light, contrary to Einstein's false theory, also changes, obeying the law of addition. But he accelerated faster than a photon. It even seemed that he stopped touching the sharpest stones. And in one fell swoop he caught up with the next group, in which the Sorcerers tried to organize a worthy resistance.
  Naturally, a certain thought flashed through the minds of all the remaining runners: to lag a little behind, and to push harder and, all together, to crush the overly frisky young angel. But even conscience had nothing to do with it. It felt as if the Mother of God herself was present, that she would never allow them to do such a thing. And after all, only God's people can fight like that. A man cannot do such a thing!
  Besides this, and most importantly, they were stopped by another thought: after all, everyone was just running, while the blond little devil or angel had to fight, one by one and in bulk, with an entire army of the most skilled opponents. Although the boy got the better of them quite easily, every real professional warrior knows very well what it is like to switch from an exhausting run to a fierce skirmish, not even to stop, but to continue the chase again without a break. That is, they had a chance to defeat the little devil with the face of an angel.
  Vladimir-Friedrich, naturally, did not think so:
  - Everyone gets tired, only the lazy give in to fatigue, only the dead don"t shed drops of sweat!
  That's why he was eager to end the quarrel quickly. Even without waiting for the inevitable end, the knights clicked their teeth in fear. And there is no need for a command to fight, It is desirable to get an excuse from the prince about surrender.
  Prince de Aregolla stopped his exhausted group and tried to spread them out with a sweeping sack, as if luring the victim into a spiked and steel cauldron.
  Vladimir-Friedrich, however, did not give in to the style of attacks of Suvorov, they will build.
  Yes, there were people in our time, not like the current tribe! You are not heroes! But there will be no sacrifice from Moscow. Napoleon will be crushed in Europe, genius will not help him. And there will be no revolution at all for his advancement.
  Bravo! We will not allow the Battle of Borodino! Instead, we will end the war here! Here Vladimir-Friedrich Rybachenko-Bismarck rushed in, jumped to the side, parrying the enemy's swords and knocking him down with his body on the ground. Then followed an incredible, even a cheetah would not be able to make a long jump forward. Yes, Vladimir-Friedrich received, albeit with a delay, a blow to the shoulder with a sword. But it was with a delay, he invested heavily and now De Aregolla himself, despite the potion, received a crushing blow to the "chest", from which he fell on his back. An attempt to jump up, and a sword to the head. Although a magical trance enveloped him, he was unable to get up on his own until the end of the "sacred battle". And Vladimir-Friedrich brought out the Hollywood "barrel" technique, which is a distraction, and a real kick to the pain point. The only one in the group, also a druid, muttering spells, went into such a deep defense that he simply missed the moment when Vladimir-Friedrich, the terminator kid, made a swift lunge to the side, and the fifth fighter fell over - dumbfounded, with a helmet crumpled like a schoolboy's blotter. The boy flew up to the sorcerer. He tried to cover himself with a special prototype of the magic matrix. After this field, a strong taste of bitterness appeared in his mouth. And the defending sorcerer was attacked by the same magic mace. Trivially barbarically trampled by tempered iron charged with irresistibility. Having received damage, the druid began to sink into the gravel dug up by metal soles.
  Vladimir-Friedrich said wittily:
  - You can be considered the winners of the barbarians, but this is better than being the losers, chattering barbarians!
  The four running "kings of duels" are extremely annoyed. The kid, his heels shining crimson from blood, walks away from them. They are left to remain with acute anger and dull irritation in their own impotence. As if death was seeing them off to the slaughter. Here, beholding the skinny spine of the imp Vladimir-Friedrich, who is gaining speed. And regretfully dreaming that the whip would pass along these sinewy ribs! The main sorcerer seemed to rub his gaze over the bodies of the brutally defeated bosom buddies. Group combat, although beautiful, is losing to them. Magic, of course, may be available, but there is little use in it. The entire world order is incredibly cruel. This judicial battle is incredible, but it could well have gone down in the history of military legends and fairy tales, eclipsing the siege of Troy. So at the moment they are extremely eager to put a victorious end to it.
  Vladimir-Friedrich, sensing their mood, said again:
  - Courage is like the leg of a chair; it is good when combined with skill and calculation, and if you add luck to it, then victory will be secured on a solid foundation!
  - Stop flirting with the snake! - Stiphar the One-Eyed commanded sullenly and weightily. - Into contact combat! We are preparing to win!
  Elena expressed herself here:
  - Victory requires preparation, but you can prepare not for Victoria itself, but for the plan that gives hope of ensuring it!
  But they didn't react to this. They even trivially switched to a quick step, restoring their ragged breathing and with trembling hands straightening the ammunition that had gotten tangled while running.
  Vladimir-Friedrich also made a summary of this:
  - You can fix a lopsided house or undermined health, but a shaken reputation is restored not by edits, but by a radical restructuring of lifestyle!
  Elena the Beautiful very appropriately stated:
  - They tried to rebuild the USSR without causing inconvenience to residents, but as a result, all the amenities were destroyed for no reason!
  Vladimir-Friedrich Rybachenko-Bismarck noticed their uncertainty. The boy knocked out another warrior with a cunning move, first as if you punch from the side, but the leg returns and the heel enters the opponent's chin. And that one's jaw crunches, teeth flying out. Do they want to stop? Damn it! This will not be urgent for you, but only after you lose consciousness and fall silent on the rocks.
  Vladimir-Friedrich sees before him warriors with magic, a special kind that somehow miraculously survived on the outskirts of Europe, despite all the dominance of the Inquisition.
  Christianity by faith is against wars, but most of all they fight under the banners of the Christian faith!
  There won't be a second turn, she'll destroy them, consider them "lads" right away! And if there is, so be it, how long will they be able to withstand under the shield of the sorcerer's doping?
  The chief sorcerer mutters something and makes passes with his hands. From which a sparkling haze appears. The boy is not simple either. He took and switched to a cold-blooded, calculating step. Another one rushes with daggers...
  The bastard was clever, he even twisted his head over his back. He tries to attack with a hysterical cry, throws the weapon. During another somersault, he gets a kick in the forehead. And then he hits him in the face, so that his helmet bends and his bones are sad! They don't let the kid get bored on the go. Well, what now? Now he's become a really cool giant. Although there is no need to pick up the weapons scattered along the way, why not make the battle more interesting. After all, the world seems very trivial to many millions of people.
  The world is unpredictable to the point of banality, but trivially calculated!
  It's good that in the Middle Ages women weren't allowed to fight. But they will probably have such battles too. His first real fighting girlfriend was his sister Elena... It even becomes a bit tedious, what if they still remain children? Of course, there is more than enough strength in his hands.
  But enemies are also mean...
  Here is some hired Saracen, breaking the rules, jumping into the arena with sabres. He starts spinning them madly and then a cunning throw of a boomerang with blades. But Vladimir-Friedrich can no longer be stopped: the swastika with razor blades was not thrown so successfully, the boy catches it slightly, though, cutting himself with the toes of his deadly feet. And throws it back... The brown face of the Saracen mercenary distorts savagely and he runs away with a cry. But the boomerang in the form of a five-pointed swastika inexorably catches up with him.
  At some point, it seemed to the Arab that he had managed to get away, the throwing weapon had gone slightly to the side. He had already managed to squeeze out: Allah Akbar! But the boomerang, like an alien discus deprived of inertia, turned to the left. And scarlet blood gushed out of the burst large aorta, forcing the hapless mercenary to bleed out.
  However, it is even symbolic for a true believer to die like this from someone considered a saint or a demon.
  Vladimir-Friedrich mechanically and correctly crossed himself with three foxes.
  Then he was attacked by another knight, although it is not known what he was counting on. Vladimir-Friedrich had never given anyone a reason to underestimate him before. Now his vis-à-vis, it seems, decided to use the miracle mace. He even got down on all fours to crawl more accurately. And another Egyptian mercenary tried to distract the attention of the young time traveler. He screamed at the top of his lungs and began making obscene gestures. Vladimir-Friedrich threw a sharp stone at him, choosing a heavier one and hooking the projectile with the fingers of his blood-red leg. The blow knocked out the Saracen's eye, and the pain shock knocked out his consciousness.
  Elena Rybachenko clapped her hands in admiration. But the other knights remained silent.
  Here the saboteur in armor took the handle in his hand, feeling the magic pulsating in the club.
  And then there was a blow to the back of the head, the helmet flew off, and the knight, covered in blood, fell silent.
  Here are two more surviving fighters and a couple who arrived, or rather ran up, quite out of breath to help, which in this case is like a poultice for a dead Saracen.
  In response, Vladimir-Friedrich went at the enemy with a cascade of somersaults - as if to say, I will crush the enemy rabbits.
  The Saracen standing on the right did not have time to wind up his crossbow, as he was pierced through by a thrown sword. And Vladimir-Friedrich kicked the second infidel so that he ran into the naked swords of the guards from the impact. With a slap, the flesh broke through and blood flowed. The Saracen pierced by the hitman's cleaver turned out to be lucky - he died immediately. But the one who was strung on swords can even be pitied, how the dear one writhes, and bleeds crimson...
  Vladimir-Friedrich declared with a whistle:
  -Human blood is not water - it does not rot with time, watering burns out the harvest, it only inflames thirst, but still, the human race sheds it!
  Elena Rybachenko screams at the boy at the top of her lungs:
  - So what are you standing there for? Finish them off!
  Vladimir-Friedrich felt sorry for his vis-à-vis, who were so stunned that they even tried to raise their swords when the cool kid performed a two-legged jump and stretch kick, and sang, breaking jaws:
  - I'm not Claude Vandamme! But still, a double whammy!
  Apparently they decided to fight against the Negas to the end. And the last four enemies emanated a special combat magic. Even the druid grumbled something. And shook the talisman, hoping to create a special kind of magomatrix.
  Vladimir-Friedrich decided that it wouldn't hurt to arm himself! Especially since the opponents were starting to give off too much power, even the air smelled of ozone.
  After which the boy woke up. Again, returning from a heroic battle to the dark nightmare of a treacherous reality! How vile and mean. But now the bare feet of a handsome, tanned boy slap on the frozen ground toward the ME-362, and he will kill Russians again. Vile, criminal, vile. Vladimir felt sick even at the thought of becoming a butcher again. And turning pale, he dropped to all fours.
  His new bosom friend Albina ran up to him. She thrust a mixture of milk and honey in a plastic American bottle towards Vladimir's face, whispering:
  - Dear baby, drink!
  It was like an electric shock to Vladimir-Friedrich. No, he was not a little boy. He never liked it when they hinted or said that he was still a minor. Vladimir jumped up and shook his head aggressively:
  - No, everything is fine! I am completely ready for battle, and I am capable of fighting.
  And flashing his bare heels, the boy jumped onto his custom-made Messer with increased ammunition.
  The car smoothly took off from the reinforced concrete strip. The boy rushed to the southeast. He felt very bad mentally, but his genetically perfect organism worked perfectly. Here he unerringly guessed where the Soviet planes would be flying from. The long-barreled M-103 guns opened fire to kill.
  To distract himself from the abomination of committing murder, Vladimir sang;
  In Russia the president is Great,
  The country is proud of Putin...
  He stopped the wild onslaught,
  The Fatherland has blossomed again!
  
  Crimea came to us voluntarily,
  The Caucasus has calmed down...
  The Russian falcon flies freely,
  We are doing great without embellishment!
  
  After all, there are so many new construction sites,
  A powerful team has united!
  The boys won't get bad grades,
  We will defeat laziness and cowardice!
  
  When we have such a ruler,
  Rus' as an eagle and a superman!
  You democrats dogs don't lie,
  Sam has been beaten more than once!
  
  We have risen - the pride of the planet,
  The tricolor flag flutters everywhere...
  We will soon conquer space,
  And on Earth there is an abundance of blessings!
  
  For the Holy Motherland of Russia,
  Vladimir is the wisest king...
  Watered with diamond dew,
  Mamai won't come to us with his horde!
  
  The Fatherland is like a torch in the heart,
  You take good care of him...
  The door to success has been opened,
  The enemies are trampled into shame!
  
  The time will come for Russia too,
  The vastness of the universe will be conquered...
  And Tsar Vladimir: the leader-messiah,
  Forever will be: sword and shield!
  And in another place, girls from Russia: Natasha, Ekaterina, Augustina, Mirabela, and Olimpiada - fought with the Nazis.
  The girls aggressively threw grenades using their bare feet. And sang along.
  Natasha, throwing the gift of death, barked:
  Lenin is with us...
  Ekaterina also threw a grenade with the toes of her bare foot and continued:
  - Sun...
  The red-haired devil Augustina gave in, using her bare, sharpened feet, to what brings death and yelped:
  - And spring!
  Mirabella also threw a message of death at the Nazis with her bare foot and chirped:
  - We are carrying...
  Olympiada took it and with her bare soles threw a whole bunch of grenades, overturning a German armored personnel carrier and said:
  - Victory of communism!
  . CHAPTER #14.
  The fascists were winning in this alternative reality so far. They managed to encircle Tikhvin and on October 4 and 5 the battles were for Volkhov. The city fell on October 7. Thus, the double ring of the blockade was strengthened. "Sturmtigers" destroyed the encircled Tikhvin. More powerful "Sturmmauses" with 650-mm mortars also participated in the battle. And Tikhvin gradually turned into a graveyard... The city desperately resisted until October 15, 1944. The Germans widened the gap with Leningrad, but suffered serious losses in manpower and equipment. And due to worsening weather and heavy rains, they were forced to stop.
  Autumn had already passed its peak. Wet snow began to fall, and having reached the Belomorsky Canal, the Fritzes dug themselves deeper into the ground
  Soviet tanks, including the newest T-34-85 and the outdated but still serial IS-2 and less common IS-3 tried to counterattack on November 7, 1946. If the weather conditions are favorable, then don't stand still.
  Due to the extremely difficult situation at the front and the shortage of manpower, a significant number of Soviet vehicles are the same ones that have been fighting since the beginning of the war, the T-34-76.
  The advantages of such a tank are excellent energy efficiency, low cost of production, a small turret that is difficult to hit, and excellent driving characteristics. Including cross-country ability in mud and snowdrifts.
  Although, of course, the T-34-76 turret is cramped and the crew's working conditions are uncomfortable. But aren't Russian tank crews used to difficulties? There are many teenagers and women fighting. And they take up less space.
  The main drawback of the T-34-76 is its gun. Its capabilities are now clearly insufficient with an initial projectile velocity of 660 meters per second. The Germans have somewhat revised their priorities. The E-series tanks, which have been developed since 1942, have gained an advantage.
  But the "Panther-2" is still in production and the Soviet machine can penetrate it from the side. As well as earlier "Panthers". "Royal Tiger" and "Lion", the E series for the T-34-76 are invulnerable from any angle. But these are not the most common tanks.
  German designers tried to reproduce a machine that was invulnerable, but not as heavy and clumsy as the Maus. The developments from the E series, in particular the E-25, were relatively successful. But it turned out to be a self-propelled gun, with powerful armor and a low silhouette. With a weight of 30 tons, the machine turned out to have excellent frontal protection of 150 millimeters and a hefty side protection of 100 millimeters, as well as a long-barreled 75-millimeter cannon with the length of the Panther's barrel.
  As combat practice has shown, this is quite sufficient, given the decrease in the hardening and strength of the armor of Soviet vehicles.
  Magda and Gerda, having just given birth to another child, climbed into this SPG. These genetically modified girls had already become so hardened that they fought in bikinis and in winter snowdrifts, or even November ones.
  The warriors wanted to test themselves again. From the first real battles on the "Tiger" in France to the current E-25.
  The beautiful rangers turned their car towards the enemy. Soviet tankers are trying to break through to close combat by cunning. They set fire to rotten straw and worn tires, thus creating a smoke curtain.
  Magda has not participated in real fights for a long time due to her second pregnancy. So the honey blonde is very interested in freshness and novelty of impressions.
  Warriors with bellies kept fit and ran barefoot in the snow. When a bare sole presses on the levers, the sensations are unique. The Panther's gun is semi-automatic and automatic, and one girl can aim and shoot it. Gerda, in turn, controls the tank. However, this snow blonde with a name from Andersen's famous fairy tale is an unrivaled sniper.
  But Magda is also a tank commander, an ace in shooting. And here her bare foot presses on the sight. Her fingers are red from the cold, but very dexterous and the first shell slips through the air and hits a Soviet tank bursting out of the clouds of smoke.
  Magda chirped as usual:
  - The light is open: one - zero!
  The next shot was made by Gerda, also with bare toes. The T-34 caught fire again. The fragile armor of the Soviet tanks yielded to the long-barreled gun from a long distance. The girls, experienced in military affairs, fired with bare feet and without aiming.
  The worst thing was that, as strange as it may sound, everything worked out for them. Apparently aiming and firing from a standing position is effective.
  And it is almost impossible to penetrate 150-millimeter armor from the front, especially at a rational angle. And the 76-millimeter gun of the T-34 is not dangerous even when fired at the side.
  Magda and Gerda felt very confident. Their bodies were warmed by the shooting, and the self-propelled gun itself was getting hot. These devils almost never missed. And their shots destroyed the small turrets of Soviet tanks.
  It should be noted that not all Germans were so lucky. Usually, the fascists even preferred to shoot at the hull, since it is very difficult to hit a small turret.
  It should be noted that the small caliber E-25 provided a solid, combat set. As many as a hundred shots! So the barefooted thieves could mock with all their demonic might.
  But the first Soviet tank T-34-76, finally broke into close combat and...
  Without thinking twice, he went for a ramming attack. The mighty "Lion", not revived by such impudence, did not have time to escape. The collision caused the armor of both tanks to crack and ammunition to explode.
  Magda and Gerda worked their legs even more energetically: fifteen shots per minute, a decent rate of fire. Even the fiery-honey blonde Magda made a Soviet tank turn over and collide with its vis-a-vis.
  Almost all the machines in the attack are light T-34s. The T-34-76 remains the main modification, and this machine breaks through like a small boxer to a long-armed brute. In close combat and work in the lower part of the hull.
  If it weren't for such outstanding aces as Magda and Gerda, the Nazis' losses would have been much more noticeable. But the Fritzes are already experienced, and unfortunately they manage to shoot down the fragile Soviet machines, which lack alloying elements, even at a distance.
  In addition, the bazooka with the faustpatrone is quite an effective tool in the hands of experienced infantrymen. And the faustniks were on the alert. But the fascist tanks are still burning. The Germans' advance on Soviet soil costs them ever greater losses.
  A couple of Soviet shells hit the frontal armor of the E-25, behind which two barracuda girls were hiding. There was a slight ringing in the ears and it ricocheted.
  Playful Magda summed it up humorously:
  - We knocked out sixty-five tanks and let two pucks hit the goalpost!
  Gerda hastened to clarify:
  - Not us, but our tank crew! Overall, Germany is confidently leading the score!
  Here, with a slight delay, heavy vehicles appeared: IS-2. They have a powerful gun. And although 150-millimeters at an angle should reflect this, but here there can already be noticeable damage from a twenty-four-kilogram shell.
  Magda fires her foot. The shell hits the Soviet IS-2 fist, but ricochets. The distance is still too great.
  Then Gerda takes aim. It is important to feel for a weak spot in the armor. The IS-2 tank, as a rule, has better welding and hardened metal. It is not for nothing that the "Lion" preferred a more powerful 105-mm cannon in order to have an advantage over the Soviet machine at a distance.
  A German, beautiful, but hated by all progressive humanity, barracuda girl presses the trigger with her bare fingers.
  The present of annihilation flies to the target with a howl... And both she-wolves, like fleas on springs, jump up and almost hit their heads on the armor. More precisely, they even hit: the height of the E-25 is only 1.4 meters and the warrior-fiends are in a prone position.
  Unfortunately, the shell hit its target, the tank's armor cracked and the IS-2 burst into flames, tearing apart its combat equipment.
  Gerda roars at the top of her lungs:
  - We are putting our enemies to death! And this is not the last move!
  Alas for the she-devils, the first women of the Third Reich to be awarded Oak Leaves to the Knight's Cross, and even swords to the Oak Leaves and even cooler diamonds, they have succeeded in everything so far. They are, unfortunately, she-devils and from among the she-devils!
  And now Magda was able to light another tank named after Stalin without unnecessary controversy.
  A battle between German and Soviet aircraft broke out in the sky. Despite the significant numerical superiority and better quality of the fascist machines, the Soviet pilots rammed and never retreated.
  On November 12, 1946, a tired Stalin looked at the battle map. One thing was obvious: Leningrad was now under complete blockade. The gap between Lenin's city and the mainland was already more than 350 kilometers and continued to widen. It was absolutely unrealistic to establish supplies by air. The enemy had total dominance in the sky. And it turned out that the second city of the USSR was completely cut off from the artery.
  Of course, in Leningrad itself, significant reserves of food and ammunition were created. But it is unrealistic in conditions when the whole country of Russia is actually starving, and the northern Palmyra is under severe blockade, and supplies are carried out only via Lake Ladoga, to make these reserves huge enough to last for several years.
  And the consumption of combat kits, as a rule, is very fast. In Leningrad itself there are military factories, but... They also need raw materials. Thus, it is doubtful whether the second capital of the USSR will be able to survive the winter. And with its fall, the enemy will have an open path to Moscow from the south.
  Now the Germans are wary of advancing. The fighting is only on the Ural River. The fascists want to get closer to the Ural factories, and maybe even join the Japanese hordes.
  There is a threat of losing Central Asia, where the Basmachi and Islamists have become active. The Red Army is suffering losses that are being replenished with great difficulty. And the Wehrmacht is already two-thirds foreign.
  But the Soviet military machine is exhausted. The territory under control is becoming smaller and smaller. And it is necessary to fight on two fronts.
  The fascists threw all of Europe, and significant forces from Latin America, Africa, and Arab countries, at the Red Army.
  The enemy is more numerous and his confidence in victory is growing. At the same time, the Red Army has more and more deserters and traitors. But it still holds back the Wehrmacht and resists.
  And the USSR, even alone, is capable of stopping and grinding down all its opponents.
  Stalin ordered to continue attacks on German positions in the north of the country and not to allow the Wehrmacht to break through and capture Arkhangelsk. Although this city is already almost completely surrounded.
  Another order was to prepare for an offensive against Japan. Although there were few forces, it was too hard for a samurai to fight in Siberia in the winter, so the deal might fail.
  The leader of all times and peoples drank strong coffee and dictated:
  - Collect all the reserves of the headquarters. Hold the city of Orenburg at any cost, do not be afraid, the weather is on our side! We will win!
  Indeed, winter did provide, albeit illusory, chances for individual tactical successes.
  Well, and then the calculations were based on a miracle weapon, and other achievements of Soviet scientific thought. Maybe they will come up with something more successful than the Yak-3, which requires a large amount of high-quality duralumin, or the IS-3, which is also difficult to manufacture.
  The LA-7 is not in series yet, there are not enough resources for launching, and the enemy is pressing from the air more and more. For example, the Fritzes have developed a real six-engine monster TA-400. And they say that the Germans do not like large sizes.
  Stalin drank another mixture of red wine and coffee and began to dictate his largely brilliant aphorisms;
  Red speech is the best remedy for the shedding of red blood!
  The hardest metal is soft lead, from which bullets are cast!
  The most dangerous lead is not the one in bullets, but when it floods your brain!
  The best thing in the world is that you can never say - it can't be worse!
  What's bad in the world is just right in war, and after victory it doesn't get any better!
  Mercy in war, unlike a public prostitute, costs more, but cannot provide satisfaction!
  Only a person who is truly elevated in spirit is not shy about showing mercy to the fallen!
  You can talk about anything, but only chat on the topic, because empty chatter turns the soup into bloody diarrhea!
  Silence is golden, which produces corrosion when hushing up tyranny!
  Words are silver that prevents the source of living water of knowledge and truth from going out!
  A country with a strong aviation will never be left behind!
  The greatest sorrow comes from a meager amount of intelligence!
  From the milk that comes from the misses of the shooters, only children of misfortune and suffering grow up!
  Physical exercise is necessary so that the life battery only runs down for your opponent!
  People with a dull mind and a strong sense of inferiority like to tease others!
  Sharp tongues, unlike daggers, strike even through the chain mail of stupidity!
  The fairy tale is well told, but reality is poorly fulfilled!
  Everything in the world comes to an end, except human idiocy and animal competition!
  Life is very much like a ring, the end of suffering is visible, but you can never feel it!
  Everything in the world comes to an end, except human idiocy and animal competition!
  Life is very much like a ring, the end of suffering is visible, but you can never feel it!
  A keen eye is the best, it allows you to avoid being drafted into the army of the dead!
  And accurate instruction will not allow you to miss the road leading exactly to the target!
  Hell has only one advantage over heaven: there is no fear of expulsion!
  The most unpleasant thing about the Christian paradise is that you wouldn"t even want anything better!
  Christ is the only lamb that gives the hare lion-like features in a wolf world!
  Only those who fail to kill fear within themselves die!
  He who has no fear at all attains immortality!
  He who fears a large number of enemies will miscalculate his allies!
  A minute spent on reconnaissance saves a century of life and a moment of triumph!
  He who does not understand the road will too often fail to collect his bones!
  The greatest damage to the enemy is caused by the one who does not lose his sense of proportion!
  A person knows no limits in his ambitions, but his capabilities always measure him!
  Anyone can lose a just cause, but in unjust cases there are no winners!
  You can cheat fate, but you can"t cheat the expectations of fateful decisions!
  There is a way out of every labyrinth, but not one that consists of the tangled convolutions of a fool!
  Only those who are confused in choosing a path can be confused!
  Russians are sometimes submissive to the great, but never give in to the insignificant!
  Submitting to a worthy person is not a shame, and following a compass is not humiliation!
  You should start a battle only when it is already won! But refusing to fight is already akin to losing!
  You can only lose in one case, when winning is only possible by chance!
  The only thing more valuable than a victorious finish is the start of invincibility!
  Trust in God, but don't forget to check the fuse!
  God is the strongest and richest guarantor, but he is also the most irresponsible!
  A person cannot demand anything from the Almighty in a loud voice, but in a whisper he can ask for everything, but only without the chance of being heard!
  You can always win, but you can only lose once, because repeated losses indicate a lack of patience in learning from failure!
  Silence is precisely that kind of gold nugget that does not need polishing!
  Talents are rare, but placed by nature so "artfully" that they always appear out of place!
  In hell, there is no fear of change, although it is precisely the fear of change that leads to hell!
  The path to the heights of victory is easy when the weight of defeats is immersed in the quagmire of the ashes of your enemies!
  Not everyone can forgive an enemy, but any real soldier should refuse undeserved mercy!
  It is not harmful to hope, but to lose hope is the most destructive thing!
  Trials are chains that do not allow too light thoughts to evaporate!
  The burden of responsibility is heavy, but frivolity leads to even more serious consequences!
  Hope dies last, a man without hope is dead from the start!
  Matter may be strong, but only spirit has true omnipotence!
  The vile is always near, but the perfect is eternally unattainable!
  He who commits atrocities is a scoundrel, he who creates something vile is a criminal... So who is the Creator God then?
  The rope around the neck is also a reliable support, and without any conditions!
  The weak pay with gold, the strong pay with steel!
  Technology compensates for the lack of intelligence only in the presence of reason, which directs the funeral of the ignorant!
  There are two things that start with "C" that you can't hide from: conscience and death! True, the latter, unlike the former, can be led by the nose for a long time!
  Do not be afraid of strength - you can become stronger than the strong, do not be afraid of intelligence - you can outwit even the smartest, but be afraid of cowardice - because it does not allow you to use your greatest strength and intelligence!
  Someone else's mind may be better than your own, someone else's lands may be more attractive than your own, someone else's money may be more desirable than your own income, but someone else's power never looks more tempting than your own!
  Although foreign power is better than one"s own in that case, if one"s own is not one"s own at all, but only for one"s own relatives!
  The spirit is truly immortal and life-giving, matter is mortal and deadly!
  The flesh is stupid, it wants gluttony, fornication, pleasures and enjoyments, often at the expense of others, and this gives rise to wars and rivalry!
  There is a particle of God in every person, and every person is capable of developing this particle in himself to Omnipotence. But if at the same time he is a moral wretchedness, this power creates a demon. The demonic principle leads to destruction and innumerable disasters!
  A man who pulls a sharp, piercing nail out of a chair deserves much more respect than one who shows the dull patience of a closet!
  Although the barking of a dog may only make elephants laugh, military training should not be made a laughing matter!
  I have never been bitten by insects, but I have been painfully wounded by people with the hearts of crocodiles and the instincts of piranhas!
  You can easily shed crocodile tears, howl like a wolf, chatter like a magpie, but the courage of a lion can only be cultivated through painstaking work!
  Physical slavery leads to the loss of life, spiritual slavery leads to immortality!
  Before you is a legion of enemies, a great multitude of various creatures!
  But more troubles come from fools - stupid advice, all sorts of worthless people!
  The one who has seven Fridays in a week is most susceptible to the influence of the environment!
  Ballast on the bottom - the captain doesn't care!
  Time is the judge and the prosecutor in one person. They come unheard - the whole universe sleeps. They rule people like a drawbar, whoever is against - will be beaten!
  You can postpone any decision except the only one that is capable of survival!
  When God wants to joke - creation cries! When the Almighty is not in the mood for jokes - creation can only laugh!
  What is the difference between a dead person and a sleeping person? Because a dead person, unlike a sleeping person, doesn't care who he lies with!
  A sword is like a dick, think seven times before you stick it in!
  Holding firmly does not mean pressing so hard that your palm gets wet!
  However, not all that glitters is gold, but everything that glitters can be turned into a golden stream into your pocket!
  Even one warrior in the field is only a warrior when he has a lot of courage!
  The endurance of the strong best restrains the passion of the enemy's impotent rage!
  You can screw up everything in life, but you can't live like a bad person!
  Cunning is the mother of victory, if she also has a cavalier of good fortune with her!
  War is an eternal virgin - it cannot end without blood!
  War with a greedy grip is a harlot - never gives victory for free!
  Every person is like a grain of sand in a desert, but unlike the vastest desert that has edges, this grain of sand has no limits to self-improvement!
  When the gods laugh, mortals cry, when the laughter of the gods becomes thunderous, the end of weak people is coffin-like!
  The most advanced technology is powerless when used primitively and when left unattended!
  What can tear the star carpet from its hinges? An asteroid of human stupidity!
  Without the whip of repression, it is impossible to leap towards achievements that bring liberation to all of humanity!
  The more sophisticated the brain is, the more force majeure twists it!
  A beggar is not he who is barefoot in body, but he who is not a boss in spirit!
  Dislike of sex breeds unhealthy morals!
  Humor at a funeral is as appropriate as a ball gown in a trench!
  He who twiddles his thumbs will not succeed, he who shatters illusions achieves the truth! The winner is always right, even if success is achieved by left-wing methods!
  The best gift from an enemy is when he gives power to an idiot!
  He who endures a collar will never become a stallion beloved by women!
  Freedom is doubly attractive to those who have managed to enslave their own sense of laziness and irresponsibility!
  Who often underestimates the enemy's ability to fight back, and the opportunity to reap a valuable victory will rarely be received!
  It's a piece of cake to make someone who loves to spit shit themselves!
  One can speak a lot of fruitless phrases about God, but the useful deeds that will come from this are a pittance, which will not grow from watering with a river of empty words!
  Winners are judged by their achievements and trophies...losers are simply judged! The winner has a magistrate, the loser has a criminal judge! You can question the value and necessity of victory, but defeat always and indisputably does not benefit anyone!
  The only benefit of defeat is that it teaches us to learn lessons and grow the seed of success from the tears of bitter mistakes!
  If you want to deceive your enemy, be a mystery to your friends too!
  If the enemy commander's plan is like an open book, then its pages will inevitably be stained with the blood of your comrades!
  The winners judge themselves, combining in themselves both the prosecutor and the lawyer, but it is not they who pass the sentence, but history!
  The simpler the trick, the more difficult it is for the enemy to get out of the consequences of its use!
  The moment of impact, like a note in a melody, will ring a little earlier or later, and it will be out of tune! Only even the whistle of the disappointed public will not be heard from the grave!
  When you know who your enemy is, you won't have to recognize your friends in trouble!
  Don't lose the initiative, you'll lose the sweet honey of victory and gain the bitterness of loss! When a boxer is staggering, you have to hit him even harder, otherwise your own limbs will give way!
  The enemy is sailing, the wind of annihilation in his sail!
  Whoever, having swum in battle, will drown in a puddle and burn at the root!
  Dirty magic, like soap suds, stings the eyes, but not the enemy's!
  Weeds grow well when things go badly with the reduction of stupid gardener prejudices!
  The most enjoyable learning process is sex! And most importantly, no one will refuse to retake the exam!
  Sex is the only subject where everyone strives to get more points!
  What sex and studying have in common is that a C is better than a D!
  And only a solid number one is the most satisfactory assessment!
  He who stands when it is time to attack will not stand firm and will sleep in the grave!
  The one who always finds himself in a stalemate in life is the one who spews obscenities!
  The one who goes first with a trump card is just a laughing stock for people!
  Anyone who wants to be in time for the awards ceremony must generously send out gifts in the form of slaps!
  The vacuum won't burst, the sun won't fart!
  The bullet is not a fool, but the fool who shoots and misses is!
  Anyone who refuses to help people is wasting the time given by the Lord for the atonement of sins and repentance!
  Death never forgets, even those who are occasionally forgetful!
  A strong warrior, even alone, brings more benefit than a pack of weaklings, just as one sharp sickle cuts down a whole field of ears of corn!
  But sometimes, even among the ears of grain of a weak army, the sickle-batyr can stumble upon a cobblestone of an unpleasant exception!
  If peace, then a generous feast, if war, then a victorious cup of wine!
  He who is clumsy in military affairs is a clumsy corpse in bed!
  - A good warrior is a spy exactly to the extent that it helps to embroider and win! A good spy is a warrior to the extent that it does not interfere with killing and avoiding defeat!
  It's easy to get lost in the heat of battle when you lose your cool from training!
  You can win with brute force, but without subtle diplomacy you will not retain the fruits of victory!
  In war there are two problems: finding the hidden enemy and avoiding the temptation to bury your head in the sand!
  Don't get into the Tsar's carriage, beggar, you won't be held accountable for thousands and a rack!
  Cruelty is necessary to achieve results - do not spare the enemy, no matter how weak he is!
  It is better to survive without learning something unnecessary than to die, having learned something that will not be necessary for you anyway!
  A person likes to put everything in a heap, except for those troubles that he is ready to forget! However, most often troubles pile up on the forgetful ones!
  When they say they like it, there is no need to rush, decide right away, otherwise your throat might choke!
  You also need to know how to lose, but it is especially important not to know how to lose!
  An attack is like a tailwind in a sail, only when it gets stronger it breaks other people's masts!
  You can't buy life with capitulation, and a shameful existence will be given to you for free!
  He who is cruel to people will himself become jelly, devoured by devils in hell!
  A sharp-shooting sniper pilot, he most often misses when landing on the widest airfield of the underworld!
  Attack is always more effective than defense, because a face from a fist is a bad block!
  He who does not hesitate to fight back quickly comes to good luck!
  The most senseless and wasteful waste of time is entertainment, but if there is no time for it, the payment for useful activity already exceeds reasonable limits!
  The most meaningless thing in life is entertainment, but without entertainment, life has no meaning!
  A shepherd must understand the sheep, but not think like sheep!
  The ruler must be one of his own for the good of his subjects, but alien to the weaknesses and superstitions of the crowd!
  Everyone falls - only the spiritually exalted rise!
  He who doesn't count shells misses the battle!
  Every shot is counted, fortune holds knowledge in high esteem!
  Childhood is like the opening in a chess game, it shapes the game as a whole, but unlike chess, everyone wants to go back and never leave the opening again!
  The cold is not scary if your heart is burning and your head is filled with icy calm!
  You can survive by freezing problems or emotions, but you can"t live if your feelings have cooled down!
  A jackal can defeat a tiger if the latter is a jackal in battle and a tiger in choosing an opponent!
  . CHAPTER #15.
  Pavel-Lev woke up and yawned... After which he frolicked for a couple of hours with beautiful girls. He did a lot of things with them. After which he got exhausted and fell asleep:
  In the desert there is no rumble, only sounds of varying volume...
  The He-123 flies almost silently towards its targets....
  One of them even dropped a bouquet of paper flowers.
  Shella (she stuck her head out of the turret and rode openly, otherwise being in the hot tank would have been torture) answered with surprise:
  - Wow, and these old people are here?
  Magda pointed her finger at the sky and replied:
  - You know biplanes, with two parallel wings they create more aerodynamic drag, but they hover better and have a lower speed when diving. That is, as an attack aircraft, if there are no fighters nearby, they are quite effective. Well, and after the defeat of Malta and a series of our strikes, the British have nothing to cover the skies over Egypt with. So the decision to use the He-123, the last aircraft of biplane design, must be called rational and generally pragmatic. - The red-haired woman could not resist a compliment. - Really speaks of the genius of this Fuhrer!
  Shella jumped high into the air, caught the paper bouquet and happily remarked:
  - Wow! Everything for the front, everything for victory!
  Filela seemed to have just woken up, yawned. In a deliberately languid tone she noted:
  - But it's so hot in the tank, its ventilation barely works. The Americans didn't keep an eye on something.
  Magda said judiciously:
  - Our tanks don't have everything planned out either, - she added with great annoyance, grimacing, kicking her bare heel against the slightly tarnished brick-colored armor.
  - The Cromwells and Matildas still have ventilation, although not all of them, but this tank is clearly not adapted to the desert. It's also surprising that its engines didn't jam.
  Filela snorted contemptuously:
  - The US has the oldest school of automobile engineering. And of course the engines themselves are not bad, only there are five of them, not one.
  - But this increases the tank's survivability in battle! - Shella noted. - Although it may make the tank itself more difficult to assemble.
  Filela, wanting to show her erudition, added:
  - But it's also more difficult to repair. Although you can drive with one or two breakdowns.
  Magda noticed a plane in the distance above the line, an elegant one at that, and whistled:
  - What kind of miracle is this?
  Shella narrowed her eyes and said:
  - Spitfires, flying from east to west, three of them... Maybe they're even ours.
  Magda disagreed:
  - They could be ours, but... You can recognize an English pilot by the way he flies his plane. Look closely. It's a typical British style! So...
  Shella lovingly touched the massive machine gun. She stroked the thick machine gun belts and said with joy:
  - This is an assault caliber 13.7. We can try to shoot it down!
  Filela objected:
  - Why should you shoot? I have more experience!
  Magda growled back in the most ferocious manner:
  - Let Shella shoot better! He shoots down with the first shot and without any experience.
  The blonde terminator threw back her hair and kissed the machine gun:
  - Cutie, don't let me down, please! Hit me!
  The machine gun fires... And despite the high altitude, the Spitfire bursts into flames, Shella continues to fire, the second one burns, and the third one explodes. Bang, and a fiery ball flashes in the sky, or rather a small ball at that distance.
  Magda whistled:
  - Masterfully! How did you do it?
  Shella replied modestly:
  - The Spitfire is a fighter, not an attack aircraft, it has weak protection from below. If you hit it right, the machine gun will pierce the gas tank.
  Filela added:
  - By the way, this model's engine is too flammable, fire-hazardous. It's not hard to set it on fire! So the main thing is to hit the fuselage with its weak belly. No miracle, just math and calculation!
  Magda, despite this, added:
  - Shella is still a good girl.
  Commander Gayla's angry voice came over the radio:
  - How dare you shoot without command! It's good that there really were Englishmen sitting there. And what if they were ours on captured planes, or even more so wolf girls. You saw how part of my company sat on captured winged horses!
  Shella, half-jokingly, but there is always some truth in every joke, answered:
  - I always feel our guys with my heart! And whoever is a stranger is not mine!
  Magda added, especially in her tone, in a deep bass voice:
  - And how many could these three of our guys have shot down? Have you thought about that?
  Captain Gayla replied angrily:
  - When there is a pause in the battles, you will answer for your insolence! But for now, fight if you can! And I see that you can!
  The landscape around was not very diverse, desert, dunes, a couple of already abandoned checkpoints. There was also an Arab village. There was an English truck there, four motorcycles with a sidecar. These were finished off in five seconds, you can't even call it a skirmish, just a massacre.
  Only closer to the outskirts of Port Said did they finally come across a checkpoint that had not yet been abandoned and even the semblance of two pillboxes. One of them seemed to be even made of marble and had five cannons.
  Magda licked her scarlet lips predatorily:
  - Now, finally, we have some serious work! Otherwise, we're just picking cherries! This isn't a war, but a carnival - I hope the devil doesn't tear it apart!
  Shella joked kindly:
  - And he usually vomits either from happiness or from moonshine!
  Magda, like a female ferret, remarked sarcastically:
  - And some moonshine to get going, then some wine to finish!
  However, even here the battle was short, one salvo was enough to disable the guns, and the machine guns mowed down three hundred infantry. Only one Englishman managed to throw a grenade. The shrapnel hit the Cromwell's armor, and one ripped the black man's pants, tearing off his dignity. The wolf girls laughed together, and Magda joked:
  - This is how we fulfill our selection function!
  Filela added:
  - Castrating the inferior!
  Only Shelley felt sorry for the soldier. And in general for these guys who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Here is a pillbox, when shells hit it, it warped like an old shoe drying. The walls split into wide cracks, which you want to grab onto and drown in. And this is terrible. Or the grimaces of the dead guys, mostly young, even if they are mostly colored. This was the result of a war started by God knows who. Although, yes, Britain declared war on Germany first and will pay for it. But only pawns are dying, and Churchill, most likely, will have time to escape on a boat somewhere into the jungle or the USA. And mothers will cry over their sons. However, maybe the time will come when people not only will not kill each other, but will overcome old age, and ...
  Shella asked Magda:
  - But we are smart, we have read a lot of science fiction. Answer, how can the power of science be used to resurrect the dead?
  The red-haired devil quipped sarcastically:
  - And you don"t believe in the resurrection of Christ, who will come and resurrect all the dead?
  The blonde she-wolf was immediately found:
  - Most of the prophecies in the Bible are pure allegory. That is why they say that Christ will resurrect, but in reality people will resurrect their brothers and ancestors through reason, through Jesus. And what did the apostles say - the Holy Spirit preaches, in reality it is implied that people moved by the Holy Spirit preach!
  Filela giggled:
  - What? It's logical! It can be interpreted that way!
  Magda yawned demonstratively:
  - So what are we going to discuss about fairy tales? There's a new fight coming soon...
  Shella pretended to be surprised:
  - Don't you want to know what awaits you after death? Or are you content with dull non-existence?
  The fire warrior perked up:
  - And since you put the question that way, then yes, life after death is also very interesting to me. We can certainly talk about it, although...
  Filela suddenly interrupted:
  - What do you mean! The topic is most interesting. - The blonde with a larger frame than her partner added. Or rather, she changed the subject. - For example, many, including brave Wehrmacht officers, believed that by starting a war with the Allies, the Fuhrer had started a hopeless cause. The enemy has a powerful line of defense, numerous colonies and resources. And we do not have many of the raw materials that are so necessary for the war. And the enemy, having become fat and united, has much more equipment on the backs of the Negroes than we do!
  Shella quickly added:
  - Yes, I saw with my own eyes that the German women were crying with grief when they learned that Britain had declared war on us. It was, how can I say...
  Magda, with a mocking grin, suggested:
  - Something like a quiet panic!
  Shella nodded her head happily:
  - That's exactly it, just like that!
  Filela continued, smiling slyly:
  - So why shouldn"t we assume that if our great nation, led by the greatest genius of all times and peoples, was able to create what seemed impossible, then science will also be able to reach the heights!
  Magda cried out at the top of her lungs:
  - Yes, that's a brilliant suggestion! Well, I have some ideas on that matter!
  Filela pretended to be surprised:
  - Is it really true? And I'm so naive, you see, I didn't know!
  Magda, ignoring this jab, began to explain:
  - Firstly, it is quite possible, as many science fiction writers have described, starting with Mark Twain, and even earlier, time travel. In this case, you can take a person from the past at the moment he dies and take him to the future.
  Shella sighed heavily:
  - It sounds nice, but if they don"t find a body, it will raise big, no, huge suspicions, especially if it"s done on a mass scale.
  Magda shook her head:
  - No, in this case, everything can be done very cleanly, namely, to leave a biomodel instead of a killed person or even one who died of old age or illness. After all, reproducing a physical copy of a person is entirely within the power of science of the future, and I believe not too distant!
  Filela exclaimed happily:
  - What? It's logical! All my dead friends didn't actually die, but at the moment of death they were transferred to the future. And now they enjoy the world, or rather the universe, where the Third Reich is a mega-universal empire!
  Magda grimaced deliberately:
  - Well, well! Do you think it's possible to transfer a living person, at the moment of death, so unnoticed by those around him?
  - And why not! - Magda exclaimed. - After all, the art of camouflage exists. And in the distant future, it will be brought to perfection. So, unnoticeable movements in space are entirely possible!
  Filela even added:
  - And to suggest otherwise was simply a complete lack of dialectical thinking. That is, only a rotten conservative could think otherwise!
  Shella did not calm down:
  - And what if he is a person and died from illness or old age?
  Magda put her finger to her lips and whispered slyly:
  - No! That's the whole point, he didn't die! No one, at least not any decent person, dies for a moment. We true Aryans are essentially immortal and live even in the event of death. Which essentially doesn't exist! Well, and to rejuvenate or cure any, even the most hopeless disease for the science of the future, especially Aryan science, is a piece of cake, an elementary matter! That is, no one will ever see death!
  Shella giggled nervously:
  - Well, yes, and our bodies won"t even be made of protein!
  Magda, with the eagerness of an academic, confirmed:
  - Of course, not protein! After all, protein is the most unstable element in nature. Why should a perfect Aryan consist of protein?
  Shella smirked mockingly:
  - And what should a true Aryan consist of, if not protein? Maybe steel, there is nothing better than titanium, but it is unclear how to bend the limbs in this case.
  Filela suggested:
  - Maybe it will be liquid titanium, or some kind of liquid crystal structure?
  Magda shook her head vigorously:
  - No! I think it will be different. Do you know what plasma is?
  Filela, getting ahead of Shella, almost shouted:
  - Yes, plasma comes in different forms; there is blood plasma, and there is the plasma that forms inside stars as a result of a thermonuclear reaction.
  Magda's face took on the look of a know-it-all:
  - Well, there you go! Now imagine superplasma, or more precisely a substance for which I came up with an original name: princeps-plasma! And with its help you can acquire such wonderful properties of the body... Not even fabulous, but hyper-fabulous!
  Shella asked again:
  - Why is the name princeps-plasma?
  Magda readily explained:
  - That's why princeps in Latin means primacy or chief! There was even a concept of principate. And such a substance is capable of such things... For example, changing sizes, and extracting more energy from one atom than a thousand metagalaxies with all the stars and planets. Or even cooler...
  The reasoning, which was quite interesting, was interrupted by Gayla"s menacing cry:
  - There are enemies ahead! Now there will be a real fight!
  The girls, carried away by the conversation that was mind-blowing to any imagination, did not notice how they found themselves in Port Said, at that time the largest city in Egypt and its stronghold (Cairo was still in the background!). The city itself, with an abundance of ancient buildings and monuments of all kinds, some of which were so frank that you wonder how the puritanically educated Arabs did not destroy them, was amazing. But this time the girls had no time for admiration. And in front of them were indeed enemies, and in large numbers. Equipment of all kinds, tanks, self-propelled guns, trucks, an abundance of infantry. But it was obvious that the British and their numerous colonial troops were scared. It was simply panic. In places in the city fires were already blazing and charred and bullet-riddled corpses were lying around. It was obvious that the oatmeal lovers were ready to run away to the Moon to get rid of the most severe pressure from the German troops. But the enemy was already nearby, in particular the attack aircraft, Ju-87 and He-123, bombers Ju-88, and Do-217 were hammering away without stopping. And with amazing accuracy, not wanting to miss. The English planes were not even visible.
  Thousands of English soldiers and hundreds of trucks, dozens of tanks resembled a rabble, or a frightened gypsy camp pursued by merciless inquisitors. Although the "gypsies" somehow have too much metal. But the fuss and squealing are beyond measure.
  Gayla ordered:
  - Even closer! We'll hit point-blank. First of all, we need to take out the tanks, they're the only ones who can still scratch. Machine guns will do for the infantry and trucks!
  Shella suddenly felt her heart beating fast. The moment of the great harvest was approaching, when, finally...
  - Fire! - Commander Gale roars (what a bad habit, to yell like that, a skilled commander needs to train his subordinates to obey without shouting).
  It"s impossible to miss from a short distance, the salvo thunders, the rear and front armor of the English tanks bursts like oil bubbles!
  Magda screams:
  - That's how we gave it to them!
  And so it began... The English and their mercenaries were in a state of genuine panic, in its wildest form. Some of the soldiers ran away, and many even opened fire indiscriminately, hitting each other! One of the blacks began waving his broadsword, cutting up his closest comrades. And then, in ecstasy, he slashed, hitting himself in the leg! Now that was truly a horror story. Brrr... Some of the recently brave and tough British fighters began bleeding from the mouths of fear, even without being hit by the Germans.
  Well, the girls, of course, did not waste time. They fired furiously, literally pouring lead over everything. Shella fired from two machine guns at once and saw how the mown ranks fell under her blows. And the comparison with the blows of a sickle is too weak, here, taking into account the aggressive work of the other girls, there was the work of a thousand forage harvesters. If anyone wanted to establish even the most basic order here, they could not! They simply could not, so such a thing was impossible in such chaos! And the girls smashed, releasing shells at the highest possible speed, they fed and passed them quickly, so contrary to the absurd opinion about the effeminacy of blondes, they turned out to be accustomed to everything. And then from above again "Stukas" (derogatorily nicknamed on the Soviet front by the bast shoes wearers Ju-87). And also the deafening howl of sirens, and Wagner's music. All this makes an impression on the oatmen and their lackeys. And the terminator girls can only shoot and destroy as quickly as possible. Gather the harvest and try not to be late to rip the sweets from the table. When they shoot from tanks, fragmentation shells, it is impressive. But when large-caliber machine guns pound, tearing soldiers to pieces, it hits the brain doubly.
  Here, too, numerous, but small-sized bombs are falling from above. In the USSR, they were called "Christmas eggs." They proved to be very effective in attacks on airfields, damaging many planes at once and covering them with a shroud of annihilation.
  But in this world, war with the USSR could not be avoided, just as the beating could not be avoided, and England must now experience the devilish invention of German science. Experience the extremely harsh impact. In these conditions, it is no longer possible to surrender, but only to bend over. In the head of the witty Magda, like herds of horses, original thoughts;
  The idea in war is the aim, the implementation is the shot, the means are the projectile!
  Art asks for victims, military art extorts them!
  War is a still life that is unpleasant to draw, and doubly disgusting to admire!
  Death is like a cane for a blind man, it helps to feel the perspective, but hides the details!
  The plant withers without rain, so the thought fades without rebellious impulses!
  The immaculate world is like a vacuum, and even more so when it is empty!
  - Fantasy grows wings, doubt forges shackles!
  He who roars with a roar will throw down his shield in fear!
  A loud voice is a bluff - to be afraid of it is a sin!
  A world without fiction is like porridge without butter, only the requirement for freshness is even stricter!
  White hair is a symbol of purity, and bad thoughts are always dirty, a stupid head is covered in the ink of meanness!
  A slave is not one who wears iron chains, but one who has a wooden head!
  Religion is a black sun: from which reason withers, thoughts dry up, superstitions sprout!
  The coolness of a politician is like the steering wheel of an airplane, without the stopcock of indecision!
  Life is a chain, and little things are links in it - you can't ignore the importance of a link! But you can't dwell on little things - otherwise the chain will envelop you!
  An honest thief is better than a lying detective, a master key made of gold is more valuable than handcuffs made of shit!
  Indifference is not the best armor in terms of protective properties, but it is the most affordable to make!
  This is, of course, cool, even too cool, to exterminate everyone, and also to have such things running through your head, but it doesn"t interfere with killing enemies at all. And as the battle progressed, the leaps of aphorisms only accelerated;
  A sparrow can out-twitter an eagle, but is unable to peck a kite!
  Kindness is soft, but it binds the grains of personal interest better than any cement!
  Pain is the other side of pleasure, only with a much greater desire to turn to you!
  He whose spirit finds no peace, and whose character is tormented by cruel trials, torments his flesh!
  For the brave - a valiant death, for the coward - a strict escape, for those who do neither this nor that - a free ration in captivity
  Blood enemies differ from dynamite only in the absence of a detonator!
  Showing pity in war is like salting a cake, and mercy is like peppering a pastry!
  It"s not the mice that sing in the lyric hall that are scary, but those that squeak in your head!
  A person's personality is like a bottomless well, when it is at the center of power, it can suck in the entire country!
  War is a lottery, only the winnings are paid for with tears and blood, and are not transferred online!
  All countries are preparing for war, but no one can plan victory!
  Even in hell you need connections, but in heaven you need a roof!
  The underworld has its advantages, changing your place of residence is not scary!
  Weakness is the sister of betrayal, betrayal is the father of retribution!
  A lie is a thin rope that, depending on the sharpness of the mind, can pull you out of the abyss or tighten around your neck!
  The difference between deception and fabrication is only in the motive, and not always mercantile!
  In the underworld, you can be afraid of everything except exile!
  Everything is possible except the impossible, which is unimaginable!
  In the art of knowledge there are only two hopeless things: trying to explain human stupidity and understanding the logic of the Supreme God!
  The mind develops like muscles through training, only it doesn"t get stretched!
  The money is paper, but they impose an iron dictatorship!
  A polite tongue hides evil thoughts better than a sheep's skin hides fangs!
  No matter how soft the sheep's wool is, it cannot soften the sharpness of the wolf's fangs!
  Alcohol is the most accessible killer, but unfortunately it kills not only the customer!
  The brave man dies but once, but lives forever: the coward dies but once, but lives only once!
  The best way to drown out the voice of reason is the clanging of blades, especially if the reason is not egregious!
  You can't win without losing, but you can lose without winning!
  Defeat is a judge who rejects an appeal and does not allow the lawyer to speak!
  A blow to the air is often the most deadly, as it takes away oxygen and shakes the imagination!
  The pain of money is different in that when someone else has it, there is no desire to appropriate it, but when you have it, you refuse to share it!
  A good ruler does not make new enemies, just as a thrifty owner does not breed extra fleas!
  Beating bastards is like scoring a goal, only the judge-law calls a penalty in the wrong time!
  If you want to become God, don"t be a monkey in science, blindly imitating nature!
  The weakness of humanity is ignorance, strength is knowledge, power is the ability to think outside the box!
  A man always lies, even when he speaks the truth, because existence itself is a deception!
  Not everyone can be a leader, because leadership involves getting ahead of the worst!
  Technology during war is like a boy entering first grade - you need to grow and improve your knowledge!
  Everyone loses, only a few win, only human egoism is invincible, it disguises itself too cleverly as rationalism!
  It is better to bury to the sound of the Marseillaise than to live to the sound of a funeral march!
  A fox in a trap can only give up its skin, but a person in captivity can only give up skin and bones!
  Defeat is like a defective child, no one recognizes it as their own, but there is no escape from it!
  Idleness is the most dangerous form of betrayal; it does not require any diplomatic skill or financial expenditure from the enemy!
  A warrior is more important than a surgeon, he saves not the mortal body with a blade, but cuts off the physical shackles from the soul!
  By refusing a beggar you save your pocket, but rob your soul!
  The worst thing about war is that you will always be disappointed by its ending and tired by its course!
  Stupidity is the greatest vice, especially because powerful worlds encourage it!
  Fear is a little death - by conquering it we come closer to immortality!
  Military cunning is worth more than gold, but lighter than feathers, because the commander carries it in his head!
  When it comes to horses and slippers, their white color means complete incompatibility!
  Power, like a carnivorous shoot, grows only in the direction of death!
  Male beauty can be royal, but it is not crowning, and female beauty is only spoiled by a crown!
  The world is different from a chessboard in that no one plays by the rules, and similar in that we are all just pawns in it!
  You can scare Russians, but you can't make them afraid!
  To fear is harmful; to beware is necessary!
  Tales only exist in the crypt, but real discoveries do not allow civilization to be driven into the basement!
  The sun will sooner turn purple than a Russian will turn yellow from betrayal!
  It is a sin to steal, but to leave a beggar hungry and a rich man to go crazy with fat is even more sinful!
  Shella saw how the hellish haircut was taking place, how the ranks of people, crazed with fear, were falling under her blows like knocked down bowling pins. And Magda, shooting, turned the levers with her bare feet, pressing on them and forcing the tank to move and mercilessly crush this rabble. Bones crunched under the tracks, even intestines began to wind around the rollers. Here even the merciless Filela warned:
  - Don't crush them like that, the caterpillar will jam!
  Magda muttered in response, quite a witty beauty:
  - Oh, come on, I'm being polite with them!
  Shella, in turn, suddenly felt, despite her role as a merciless executioner, such a spiritual uplift that she even began to sing;
  If your fist is strong,
  This means you will be the first in life!
  And then the comrade is not a poor man,
  He has a heart of gold and nerves of steel!
  
  But even more importantly, believe - this is a strong mind,
  Because man is tougher than animals.
  If in life you are a gloomy cloud,
  Then your cheerful laughter will make you loved!
  
  Machine additive know - strength to the fist,
  Because it is full of - knowledge and Know-How!
  But try to give power - into the hands of a fool,
  Then you will only receive pain as a reward!
  
  There was a time when people went hunting with clubs,
  A bow, a quiver with arrows against thick skin...
  But they made chervonets where groschen were used,
  And it"s already very easy to jump into the galaxy!
  
  Although education is good -
  But to add courage to intelligence is also interesting...
  And equal to the bayonet, it will become a chisel,
  And we serve our Motherland very honestly.
  
  But evil violence is a heavy cross,
  Our battlefield is flooded with blood...
  Why did the Almighty God rise from the dead after His torment?
  So that the military gathering of soldiers will be strengthened!
  
  The maiden's tears are dripping - her beloved friend has fallen,
  The mother prays with a groan, screaming at the top of her lungs...
  It's freezing outside the windows and the fire has gone out,
  Here is a handsome young man buried underground!
  
  Oh, fate, sorrow - what an evil fate,
  Virgin Mary - where is your good nature?
  The man wanted to become betrothed as soon as possible,
  And now the wind drives the ashes under the pines!
  
  Life will come happily - it will be good,
  Apple pie will become poppy seed honey...
  The fiendish enemy, into dust and powder,
  Let true luck cross the threshold!
  
  Everything is done on Earth and now it's time to move on to Mars,
  Let's gather garlands full of stars into our fists!
  And hello guys, just top notch,
  And what was thrown into the fire was a terrible ghoul!
  
  The machine gun has already become familiar - bullets are pouring out like a stream,
  And the enemy is exhausted, what he wanted is zero!
  Having won, you will become a rich man,
  The one who started the fire will end up in poverty!
  Shella sang and shot, beads of sweat dripped onto the machine gun's unglued iron, it looked like the girls had already exterminated more than one thousand. There had never been any sign of organized resistance, but now either flight or falling to their knees with the throwing out of the white flag had begun. Now detachments of paratroopers with swastika armbands had appeared from the sides. Magda exclaimed with ecstatic joy:
  - Our troops are in the city! Port Said is now mine!
  . CHAPTER #16.
  Pavel-Lev woke up sober again. And again he began to walk with the girls. He began to lick their bare, gracefully curved soles with his tongue. And he did it very energetically, and the girls laughed. And so, having laughed enough and jumped up and down, the soldiers began to drink again.
  And Pavel-Lev got drunk and began to snore again, and saw dreams:
  The chain on Artem's leg illuminated a little and gave off a moderate warmth from the radiator. And in general the climate here is mild, and the boy shook the beads of sweat running down his forehead. The girl, whose bare foot was also shackled, touched her chain and asked:
  - Don't press so hard, there will be bruises!
  The shackles replied:
  - And you, cunning one, want to run away?!
  The girl helplessly waved her hands, noticing:
  - Where would you go even if you ran away?!
  The red-haired boy confirmed:
  - All food and goods here are by identification code!
  The shackles answered laconically:
  - We do not give hints. The clamp does not pose a health hazard.
  It seemed they were in no hurry to take them to the local prison. Someone else was being gathered. Here they shoved in an older girl. Beautiful, although it seemed like everyone here looked like in Hollywood - not a wrinkle, not a flaw. Her shoes were taken away by the police drones and the girl, having become a prisoner, blushed deeply. Artem, who had forgotten the red-haired boy's last answer, suddenly remembered that this was strange. And he asked again:
  - So how do you know Russian... and Hebrew too?
  The prisoner boy did not answer right away, he also had handcuffs on his wrists. The others only had one leg cuffed. Artem paid special attention to this: maybe this boy was a dangerous criminal?
  There was no answer, only the girl quietly whispered:
  - Every word here... - And she put her finger to her lips.
  Artem realized that they were being bugged. And his mood finally soured. The space trip ended in arrest. Something he had never experienced before. Although he had certainly watched the movie. He remembered the movie "The Client" when a boy was arrested to beat information out of him. Then, however, he got off cheap - just having rested in a spacious solitary confinement. But here there was no such comfort. Now they threw in two more boys and a girl. It was already cramped on the bench slightly covered with plastic. But it seemed like the winged machine began to pick up speed and then the red-haired man quietly said:
  - It's hell here. Only many people think that this is order. You made a mistake and you're already a criminal who needs to be re-educated!
  The little white boy nodded in agreement:
  - Everything here is a trifle, except for Joseph. And he nodded at the red-haired man.
  The older girl sighed heavily:
  - I was out of step again. Now, they'll make me stomp barefoot through the desert and the laser will fire at the slightest mistake.
  The boys who were detained also howled:
  - We just slightly mixed up the road sign. Especially since the images are constantly changing!
  Artem blinked his eyes and noted:
  - And are people slaves to bees?
  The redhead shook his fist cautiously:
  - Not for long!
  The handcuffs on the boy clanked quietly, and suddenly his face was distorted with pain. Sparks ran through his hands - apparently a shock discharge was used. The boy staggered and a large girl held him, whispering in his ear:
  - Don't tease them... We can't defeat the system, so it's better to submit to it!
  The redhead shook his head, his tanned face turned pale, but he said nothing. Maybe not so much because of fear.
  Artem was also outraged by this: everyone is forced to march in formation and in step. It's like North Korea or something even worse. And then the laser beating?
  But the most annoying thing is that these worlds seem to be ruled by muscular and large bees, and on them is someone who strongly resembles an antihero from "Star Wars". Even the name is similar - Jabba, though Corpse. What a name for a dictator.
  And the armored hearse flew into the prison yard. It stopped smoothly, they barely even shook. Here Artem was burned with fear - that he might have to go to prison and meet hardened criminals on the bunks. The boy tried to convince himself that he would have to sit with his peers, and the boys would somehow get along with each other. But his legs were still shaking. The intelligent ones, or maybe the cybernetic ones inside the chain, freed his legs themselves, and following the rubber spikes of Artem's sneakers, the bare but clean heels of the other detainees flashed.
  There were several bees in the yard, as well as another dozen and a half of the arrested. The newcomers were lined up in a column according to height, and the chief bee barked:
  - Stand still!
  The prisoners stood at attention like soldiers. They had to stand motionless, without moving a hand or a foot! On Artem's left hand, a girl stood frozen in an almost transparent shirt, through which her braless breasts were visible, and in a short skirt. The boy devoured the beauty with his gaze, especially her flawless bare legs with an even tan and clean bronze skin, her luxurious hips, and, of course, the translucent scarlet roses of her nipples.
  Suddenly the bee swung its club and the electric discharge that flew out hit Artem in the forehead... As if he had been hit with a heavy club, sparks flew from his eyes, and the captive boy did not fall only because a couple of police drones grabbed him by the arms and put him in his place. And a menacing shout:
  - I told you to be quiet!
  Artem stood unsteadily on his feet, sparks were sparkling before his eyes, but he tried to keep his balance. A thought flashed through his head: how could it possibly be so painful for soldiers to be on guard duty? And those poor things endure it even in the cold. And here it was warm, a little over thirty degrees. No sweltering heat.
  In order to distract himself, Artem tried to examine the prison yard without turning his head. In general, nothing special: high walls around - true, without barbed wire, but at the top some background flickers alternately pink and blue. Maybe it's a force field like in science fiction, or shields made of high-frequency, the boy thought.
  And it got even worse: the society here is highly developed, cooler than the earthly one. Here are these drones, on whose hands holograms are displayed for an hour. Wow, something like the evolution of a cell phone with a connection to the local Internet. However, you can"t surprise anyone with this in the twenty-first century. The difference here is that instead of a monitor, a three-dimensional, color projection rises from the bracelet. But they can do this on Earth too. And a club that hits with electricity from a distance of several meters is also not uncommon. There are stun guns. Even if they usually hit at a shorter distance. But people probably have long-range, albeit expensive, knock-out clubs. Another thing is flying without propellers and jet launchers of the crew. Now that"s real progress.
  The boy shifted his spine slightly to make it more comfortable to stand and continued his reasoning. Moreover, another teardrop-shaped, slightly frightening, flying raven landed in the yard. The boy noticed that during the flight, the air became lighter for a split second. So the prison car was passing some field. This did not set a major tone. The technology here is in...
  Oh, if he had landed on a planet that was technologically backward and in the Middle Ages: how he would have turned around then! With his not-so-great grades, he would have shown everyone how smokeless gunpowder is produced, or how machine guns are made. And when they installed the Uragan multiple launch rocket system, the empire of Tsar Artem the Great would occupy the entire surface of the globe. And then the greatest of emperors would raise his gaze to the heavens and the conquest of space would begin!
  The boy gave free rein to his own imagination. Here it is, the first target - the Moon, where the three-legged people described by Baron Munchausen live. They use special grenade launchers as a weapon that shoot poppy heads. And so such a stream is thrown back, and earthlings in flying saucers meet with fire from alpha lasers... And the striking power of the radiation makes the three-legged... They throw off their hooves, turn over, kick their legs, and the soles are shod with platinum. And it is especially cool when a hand-held rocket knocked off the turret of a tank, which had a spinning cutter instead of a barrel. And now it is turning lunar inhabitants into pancakes. And that's cool!
  The appearance of three more individuals - two tall, more slender drones, and a heavily discharged bee - increases the tension. The line straightens up even more, and Artem's back aches. These are some new types!
  The killer bees glanced at the unfolding line of prisoners. There were already more than fifty captured representatives of the human race gathered here.
  Different ages, but no one looked older than sixteen. In prison uniform, when they make you wear shorts and take away your shoes. But Artem couldn't help but draw attention to his non-standard appearance.
  The main bee, casually walking, suddenly stopped near the young messenger of the earth and stared at the boy. She has three eyes, similar to torn holes - a green background with pimples and a gap into blackness. It is truly scary: it seems that you are about to be pulled into this gap.
  Artem involuntarily closed his eyes and stepped back. A guard immediately stuck a club between his shoulder blades, and the bee-general said in a cold tone:
  - The boy is not dressed in uniform!
  The drone replied in a low voice:
  - This is an alien chosen by Jabba...
  The general bee shouted:
  - Then he should be transferred to the cold section of the prison!
  The drone shook its paw, a piercing squeak was heard and an elusive lasso tightly wrapped itself around Artem's neck. The boy shook, and the general bee harshly ordered:
  - Bring him in! Let them take him apart like a newbie.
  And the noose pulled the boy into a white building with a blue stripe. The armored doors slid apart like the doors of an elevator - music squeaked softly. Now they entered a room from which coolness blew after the street heat. And in general, it seemed that gravity had changed - this turned out to be another world and underworld. True, a slight resemblance to police stations from Hollywood films remained.
  A tall drone guard grabbed the boy by the ear, twisted it, and another one detached the collar.
  Then you can also say that the child was pushed hard with a rifle butt.
  Artyom howled again, it seemed as if his ear was being torn off, he was led first up the stairs, then down the corridor. A sharp smell of chlorine hit his nostrils. Then came doors made of transparent armor. He was led into a room with mirrors on the walls, a strong blow fell between his shoulder blades, and the boy flew headlong, almost smashing it on the floor. Cotton and sparks flashed before his eyes. Two fat, tall, hippopotamus-like bee-women, striped and pot-bellied with plastic, or rather rubber gloves on their paws, were already waiting for him.
  -He's yours, you can castrate him! - The drone guards laughed.
  - Take off your clothes! Faster, puppy! - The "gorilla-like" diva-bees lifted him by his hair.
  - It looks like the boy is out of his mind! - Let's help him! - And they started to roughly rip off his clothes. The dumbfounded Artem only weakly resisted, they tore his T-shirt, pulled off his shoes along with his socks, and when they tried to pull off his underwear, he jerked free and rushed to run. Several guards rushed to intercept him, the boy ducked and slipped between their legs. Then he picked up his speed, but he didn't manage to get far, a large, snarling pig-bulldog jumped out to meet him. Artem couldn't stand it and turned back. That's when a pack of guards pounced on him. They started to beat the imprisoned boy with plastic truncheons with a steel rod. They might have beaten him to death if a menacing shout hadn't stopped him:
  -This bug may still be useful for the investigation, stop it!
  The boy was lifted up, splashed in the face with cold water, then turned around and thrown on his stomach. The drone roared:
  -Don't run on his heels, just don't injure him!
  The child prisoner was slapped on his bare heels, several times with a pull. Artem screamed and whined, tears streaming down his pink cheeks.
  Instead of sympathy, there is a poisonous hiss:
  -This is just the tip of the iceberg, and when the investigator interrogates you, you'll start singing even more.
  The boy was lifted up and subjected to a humiliating and meticulous search. They pressed a finger on his navel, which caused convulsive spasms in his stomach. They looked into his mouth, ears, nostrils, searched him from head to toe, even roughly feeling his shameful parts. At the same time, they also turned on the flashlights, although there were already four bright spotlights shining from different places. Artem, of course, was ashamed and scared, and when they poked around in his body, inserting probes and hoses: it was disgusting and very painful. You involuntarily squeal in this prison hell.
  He ceased to be considered a human being, everything indicated that he was a prisoner, a person without rights. He was alternately hot and cold: his face would turn pale, like a corpse, and then turn cherry-colored. Then they took him naked to the barber. Several barefoot girls, in striped overalls and light shackles, giggled, seeing how the boy blushed and tried to hide his shame, but his hands were held behind him by a live wire. His wrists went numb from the strain.
  And the obligatory portrait of Jabba the Corpse, a sickening freak, a real wart-covered toad on every corner. The barber shop itself, with its mirrors and spotlights, resembles a search room, and the chair is a dentist's, with clamps, too.
  A humanoid bee in a black suit and sticky wings roughly crushed the head, like a ram was being shaved with a blunt clipper, it was painful, the blade had touched a fresh bump. It seemed to the boy that with each tuft of cut blond hair his soul and a piece of his own individuality were flying off. And the rude sadistic barber unceremoniously, as if on a living thing, trampled them. When they were finished, the drone-overseer hit the freshly shaved head with a club.
  -Get your ass kicked, bald man!
  Artem almost lost his consciousness, his legs gave way. Grabbing his long-suffering ears, they lifted him up and dragged him into the shower. There they put him in the center of the cabin and locked him in, after sprinkling bleach on his face and shoulders. The boy froze, expecting another nasty trick, and listened anxiously. There was a hum, and a stream of scalding hot water fell on him. Steam came out, his skin turned red, hellish pain, it seemed like he was burning.
  -Help! - the captured boy screamed.
  In response, the boiling water stopped and cold water fell. Its streams began to ache his teeth. Artyom began to freeze and shake, when suddenly the burning waves fell upon him again. Then icy cold. The boy who had found himself in hell fell into hysterics, but the torture with water stopped. Red as a lobster, he left the cabin, he had to step on his toes, his heels were blue from the stinging truncheons.
  Now they took him to another room. There they photographed him naked from different angles, measured him, weighed him, took blood from his vein. They copied down his signs and birthmarks, looked for scars and burns. Then there was laughter.
  -Now let's play the piano.
  It was fingerprinting, and they took fingerprints not only from his hands, but also from his feet, carefully smearing the battered soles with black paint. Then they smeared his lips too - it was very disgusting, and his head was roughly pressed against a white sheet of paper. The boy tried to spit, but they punched him in the face. His head jerked, his teeth clanged. They x-rayed him, photographing his internal organs. Then they led him to the mirror. Artem looked at himself, dumbfounded. The bald boy cowered with a black eye, swollen black lips, several bumps on his head, bruises and marks from truncheons on his naked muscular body.
  -Well, kid, do you understand what it means to speak out against legitimate authority?
  The wart-covered bee chief shouted menacingly.
  -And now you need to be marked. You will wear this sign forever.
  A humanoid drone in a mask and green robe came out from behind the mirrors. He took out a tube with a semblance of a seal.
  - Now we'll make you a punch. These numbers are your number - 1379598500. You'll be under this number as a prisoner. Give me your hand.
  The frightened Artem, looking at the red-hot iron, hid it behind his back. Then two giant drones twisted the limb by force and handed it to the executioner. He dripped alcohol on his hand and then cauterized it. The boy screamed and twitched, but he was held in an iron vice. Finally, the flaming steel was taken away, and he went limp, almost losing consciousness from the pain.
  -Let him go under an ice-cold shower.
  Artem was rinsed with ice water. It was so intense that his teeth began to beat a drum roll, but it became a little freer. The seemingly endless registration procedures came to an end.
  The bee in the white coat promised:
  -Now you will be given government-issued clothing.
  The boy sighed with relief - it was unpleasant to walk around naked all the time, especially in the presence of female bees, and he was shaking from the cold.
  Here they are, the people in black uniforms brought, roughly throwing the robe. Short, above the knee, dirty white pants with a blue stripe, or rather shorts, belted with a rope and the same striped shirt with sleeves up to the biceps, typical of movie prisoners. And such a torn outfit, possibly even taken from a corpse with torn out buttons.
  Artem had the courage to ask:
  -And that's all?
  A massive bee in a white coat giggled disgustingly:
  -Of course, everything! And a juvenile delinquent is not entitled to more.
  Artem nervously rubbed his itchy, pink heels together:
  -And the boots? Am I going to be barefoot?
  The bee explained condescendingly:
  -You are a criminal and must repent, and according to the law, all juvenile offenders are required to walk barefoot, regardless of the season. - And the insect winked. - And on this planet, all of you people will forever remain minors!
  The teenage boy's feet were already starting to get cold, the climate was different here, and he asked anxiously:
  -What if I catch a cold?
  - A baton will cure it! - And the drone guard again hit her bare bottom with a jerk. - Get dressed faster, kid.
  Arthur jerked, groaning, his skin was sore, he dressed somehow, tightened his belt. The boy was handcuffed, then he was taken to the waiting room. There Arthur was forced to his knees, his hands were pulled back, his wrists were attached to his ankles. So he sat in an uncomfortable position, waiting for the final decision on his fate. His knees ached from the concrete floor, his half-naked legs were numb.
  Now the boy was quietly sobbing, he was sad and disgusted, everything said that he was a prisoner, a man finished for normal life. He would never return to Earth and escape from this crazy world. The red-haired boy said it right: this is hell! Now there is no way - a hopeless dead end! His entire Arthur personality was dissolved and destroyed in meticulous prison procedures. Finally, the head of the department, a bee with silver shoulder straps, finally got to his file and said.
  -To the children's department, group No. 9, cell twelve.
  The handcuffs were removed from Artem's bare, almost childish feet with even toes and were fastened to the guard's hand. The boy was led away, pushed with truncheons. The boy was again afraid of how other prisoners would greet him. Many horrifying things were told about prisons, because there were not just children there, but criminals.
  Here they went out into the yard, sharp stones dug into their bare feet, the captive boy walked on his toes and it was especially painful for him. It was raining - damp and cold. At the entrance to the next room, enclosed by a high fence, boars-bulldogs were roaring, straining themselves. The corridors were gloomy with many bars, even the openings on the floors were blocked with them, and the walls were painted black and gray. This puts terrible pressure on the child's psyche, and the child's heart again begins to beat faster, he painfully hit his bare toes on a slippery concrete step, slowed down slightly, the guard hit him in the back with the butt of his rifle.
  - Don't sleep, newbie!
  The boy buried his head in a puddle diluted with blood - someone had already been interrogated, he was roughly lifted by his swollen ear. Finally, Arthur was led to a massive door, the drone guards grinned vilely. Itchy growls were heard:
  -Here we are, but first we need to register in the cell.
  - How so? - The boy asked stupidly.
  The drones explained condescendingly:
  -You're still too young, we'll take pity on you. Ten blows with a baton to the soft spot and that's it.
  Artyom wanted to whine, but he understood from the wolf's eyes that it would be even worse. And maybe it would work out this way. They turned him around, pulled down his pants and hit him with all their might. The boy yelped, then bit his lip. "Be a man - a thought flashed through his mind." The next blows were even more painful. Artyom groaned quietly, but managed to hold back loud screams. Finally, the executioners finished, removed the handcuffs and opened the cell door. Then followed a strong kick, and the boy flew into it with all his might. The sleepers woke up, rubbing their eyes. Looking at them, Artyom calmed down.
  These were children from ten to fourteen years old, older and younger were kept separately. They were thin, ragged, all barefoot, with bruises and abrasions from whips and clubs. But at the same time they did not look like the terrible criminals that the imagination painted. Their faces were thin, tanned, but with smiles, people who had not lost their human appearance. There were more than eighty children, they lay on wooden bunks, without blankets, mattresses and pillows. Each was held, some by the right, some by the left leg, by a long cobra chain, similar to those used by the police drones in the van. But the hot, tropical city, alas, was a thing of the past. Now it was cool, a cold wind was blowing through the window bars thick with crooked spikes.
  Artem was confused. He was not a cool guy in general, and he had not imagined how he would behave if he found himself behind bars. Of course, his buddies had told him, and often completely opposite, stories about the juvenile prison. Sometimes they would depict this place as a monstrous hell - where terrible lawlessness reigns, or, on the contrary, as a children's sanatorium, where it was a real paradise and much more interesting and freer than a boring school. But this one certainly did not look like a sanatorium and was apparently worse than a real prison. Artur, annoyed with himself that he had not bothered to find out how to greet him properly when entering the cell, blurted out, not very successfully:
  - Hello guys! I came with good intentions.
  The cell leader, the tallest and largest boy, stood up to greet him. A long chain dragged behind him, jingling against the marble tiles, and the boss himself was about Artem's height, and noticeably thinner. Apart from his camp number, he had no tattoos, which made the resemblance to a bandit unflattering. So Arthur, having measured his strength, calmed down. And he asked cheerfully:
  -And to you too, Kent! What for?
  - I don't know! - Arthur answered sincerely, although he guessed that he was most likely taken for a spy. And this sucker, who dragged him at superluminal speed to the prison planet. If only he could get caught!
  The person watching the camera condescendingly remarked:
  - Almost all of them don't know why they are in prison. Our conditions are harsh, we must live in harmony, without informing or giving each other up. Remember, informers die.
  -And I've never been a flunky! - Artem answered truthfully.
  -That's right, remember some rules.
  The boy took a step back and began to list.
  - Don't relieve yourself in the toilet. - He pointed his finger at the trough. - There's a special hole for that.
  -Where? - Artem looked around.
  -When they drive us to work, and that will be in the prime of life and until late evening, we will build dachas for the generals. There is a pit with soft burdocks on the way near the prison. You can relieve yourself there. But you shouldn't pollute the air here. Secondly, if there are food parcels - they are formally prohibited, but for a bribe we have everything, you can share with everyone.
  Third, don't shirk work and don't fight without serious reasons. Otherwise, everyone will get into trouble. - The slave boy continued bending his fingers. -
  And finally, fourthly, do not try to escape. The entire cell will be severely punished for this. If your parents are not arrested, let them give a bribe, then maybe they will ease the conditions of detention, give us blankets.
  - How much do I have to pay? - The boy thought that it wouldn't reach from Earth anyway.
  The boss said vaguely:
  - Too many - the police are greedy!
  Artem trembled, his parents weren"t billionaires, so they"d never be able to pay it off.
  -Yes, I see you're completely frozen, it's your nerves.
  The elder boy looked more closely at Artem. He noticed the bruises and bumps, the skin red from the steam.
  -That's how they worked on you. Apparently, you're a political, since they're making fun of you like that. Okay, lie down with us, tomorrow you'll have a hard day, and get some sleep. The young "boss" stepped back slightly, making an inviting gesture.
  -Let's get acquainted, my name is Sadam.
  -And I'm Artem.
  - Nice name. - He noticed the sculpted biceps. - Do you play sports?
  The boy answered quietly:
  -Bodybuilding and wushu wrestling.
  The elder boy agreed:
  -Wushu wrestling is not bad for fighting.
  Artem modestly noted:
  - I haven't mastered it yet. And our style is more like gymnastics!
  Sadam smiled condescendingly:
  -Nothing here, all the fighters are mediocre! But if anything happens, we will punish the outlaws and those who offend the little ones together.
  -Dealt! - Arthur fully agreed with this idea.
  The boys shook hands. Then Artyom climbed onto the bunk, the boys pressed their shoulders together, huddled together. Since it was warmer this way and. Artyom chose a comfortable position, and, tucking his cold legs, tried to fall asleep. Although his shaved head ached from worry, and his bones ached from beatings, and the burnt brand itched, the healthy child's body turned out to be stronger. Dreams came ragged and disturbing, they did not manage to get enough sleep. At their peak, they were awakened by a siren. The cell doors opened and they were driven to work. True, first they were given a chance to rinse their hands a little and taken to breakfast. The food was not very good, a piece of cabbage in nettle slurry and bread. Apparently only so that they would not die of hunger.
  Then they were lined up in columns of a hundred people and driven to work. Sadam winked playfully and said ambiguously:
  -If you work hard, they'll give you extra rations.
  Artem sighed, if the head of the cell is so thin, then what can we say about the others. It's especially sad for those who are younger than you. Against the background of their small thin bodies, their heads seem big, they look pitiful - sad and exhausted.
  Here they were chained by the hand and, forcing them to march, the convoy turned around on the asphalt road. Naturally, with a song praising the wisdom of the great ultra-emperor Jabba ibn Corpse (May he really die!). On the sides, thundering with heavy boots, marched the overseers-drones, between them ran boar-bulldogs. It was still dark and the way was illuminated by lanterns. It was cold, it had rained, and they had to splash barefoot through the icy puddles, splashing icy spray. It was good that the climate was milder thanks to the two suns - there was no snow or frost. A column of ragged barefoot girls like them passed by, they were taken aside, apparently, also for hard work. The poor girls had shaved their heads and were getting hit on the back no less than the boys.
  Artem shouted to them.
  -Hold on, beauty! - And then he was hit on the back first with a club, and then with a whip.
  Almost falling, he held on and continued his path of sorrows. Although they were actively urged on, and the cold bit at their bare heels, they walked for a long time - almost two hours. Considering that their feet were beaten with clubs, this was a big load. And their throats were hoarse from constantly screaming songs. And in such a tired state, under the blows of whips, they were forced to carry and plane boards, mix concrete, lay masonry. One crimson-red luminary floated out from behind the clouds, then another very small cornflower-violet. It became warmer, birds began to sing, one of them, resembling a daisy flower, sat on the edge of a crane and began a heart-rending song. Artem's back ached from being unaccustomed to it, and it seemed to him that he was about to lose his strength.
  But a second wind opened up, it became easier and the work flowed more cheerfully. They tried to alternate the boys, after a ten-minute lunch break, where they were given such dry crusts of bread that they had to throw the "food" into the water, they swapped places. Artem got to knead concrete, a very difficult and tiring task. If before this he had calluses on his hands from weights and dumbbells, now they appeared from the shovel.
  Having thoroughly mixed the substance, he carefully laid it on the bricks. Others were laying out the wall. The dachas of the generals-bees of state security, or planetary danger to all living things, are impressive, three or four stories high, so they have to work hard. The crimson "sun" hid behind the horizon, but the violet disk does not want to go away, although its light is dim. The guys are so tired that they can barely move, even the whips do not help. Finally, the all-clear signal sounds and they are driven back. At this moment, the prison barracks seem like a home, and the hard bunks like a feather bed.
  -You're a good boy. - Sadam gave him a friendly pat on the scratched shoulder. - You took the first step with dignity. And many newbies would have given up.
  Artem, limping and staggering from fatigue, answered modestly:
  -I'm at my limit myself, I still have to get to the "hut".
  -Well, we'll do that, habit is second nature. - Sadam himself, scratched and wet, winked.
  The child prisoners quickened their pace. The wind blew at their backs, speeding them up. The only bad thing was that the guards were forcing them to sing again. Jabba, covered in warts, was already hateful, and now I wanted to rip his throat out with my teeth.
  - Don't be patient, the main thing is to survive, otherwise they'll kill us. - Saddam encouraged.
  Be patient! Such a burning word. And if not, there is neither strength nor desire to endure humiliation.
  The prison gates appeared in the distance. At that moment they were greeted by cheerful laughter and whistling.
  -Look, they're leading the "hedgehogs".
  There is a holiday on the streets and the children of the rich bees have lingered a little longer, celebrating a new cycle of the pulsar. Dressed in beautiful clothes with wings, they stand out from the poor prisoners. Empty bottles are thrown at the prisoners, firecrackers and firecrackers are fired. Artyom feels unpleasant, sparks are burning, he wants to jerk and rush at his offenders, but the chain is in the way.
  The guards laugh and even encourage the costumed bees to shameless antics. This continues for half an hour.
  -Hey you, tramps! Try to catch up with us.
  Running up and picking up the little ones - it's safer this way - they hit them with boots or try to crush the toes of their bare feet with the heel.
  Artem seized the moment and deftly kicked one fat bee-boy in the fat ass with his scratched foot.
  He flew up and squealed like a pig. The others responded by throwing several dozen bottles full of lemonade and beer. One hit Artem in the head, another hit his knee. The boy intercepted the "projectile" in flight and sent it right into the pot. A hit and the "young gentleman" was defeated.
  The guards realized that they were going too far and intervened. Vigorously but carefully, they chased away some of the bee children and brutally beat up other human ones. The unlucky boy who had just arrived got it too, they almost broke his ribs and new bumps appeared on his bald head. Then they were picked up and driven to the cell, continuing to kick them along the way.
  Artem reached the bunks barely alive, this time they weren't even allowed to have dinner. Having fallen, he, like most of the children, immediately fell asleep.
  . CHAPTER #17.
  Pavel-Lev woke up and pounced on the girls again. And he began to lick their scarlet nipples with his tongue. And he licked them to the limit. And he drank a large portion of rum. He drank so much that his brain went crazy, and he fell asleep again. And he dreamed something so cool:
  The Terminator boy woke up. He jumped up and immediately ran, flashing his bare round heels.
  He was having breakfast on the go. It's even cool. You throw meat pies into your mouth and drink milk from a thermos.
  This way the backpack on your shoulders is lighter, and it"s not so hard to rush.
  The boy colonel sang:
  - Who is the fastest in the world?
  No, guys, not a deer...
  No, the girls are not goats,
  And not lightning thunderstorm!
  After which the boy-colonel stuck out his tongue again.
  After which I began to compose a continuation of the novel. It is so healthy and fun.
  When thoughts come by themselves and flow smoothly, like a river through oil.
  Avenir was carried on Petka and Vaska's shoulders in turns during the first half of the day. Then the rocky road ended, and the slave boys crossed over to the Balkan Highway, paved with smooth tiles.
  Knyazhich willingly climbed down from the shoulder of the serf boy. And so he sat his whole ass. The worn out soles have already begun to heal, although it is still a bit painful to walk, but on the smooth tiles it is quite bearable.
  The prince walked and, admiring the beauty of the Balkans, thought. How fickle and capricious Pallada is. He is now a half-naked slave, who limps on his bruised legs, and with his hands tied, moves in a southern direction.
  I wonder what his noble peers would think if they saw Avenir in just a dirty loincloth? They would probably laugh and point their fingers at the prince's son.
  This is how the wheel of fortune turns!
  In the evening, Avenir no longer disdained stale bread and dates. The soles of his feet were burning, and the boy prince first cooled them in a stream, and then lifted them higher so that the blood would drain. They ached from several hours of non-stop play.
  Slave... He is now just a barefoot, unfortunate slave, who can be burned by a whip at any moment.
  Avenir fell asleep...
  In his sleep he seemed to see something completely unthinkable, and it is difficult to even call it a phasmogoria;
  The first to enter were the high stone walls of Tsargrad - Constantinople. Then followed a whole cavalcade of impressive and luxurious palaces and buildings, the greatest and most luxurious city of the Middle Ages. Hundreds of golden domes of Orthodox churches shone especially brightly in the sun. Even great Kyiv was not as magnificent as this king of all cities. The picture showed the past, it was summer and everything was in bloom, palms, lianas, oaks, maples and silver firs all mixed together in a strange city. The ports of Tsargrad were overflowing with ships, colorful ships filled the harbor. Some of them were huge, iron-sheathed sides, a hundred rowers on each side. Heavy warriors stuck out on their sides like semicircular shields, catapults and pipes for Greek fire were installed on the bow. The Romans' large warships - dromons, smaller skendias - covered the way to the harbor and first of all to the Bosphorus. In the future, the first great prince of Rus' Oleg will give the order to half of the Russian fleet, from small boats, to land on the shore and set the ships on wheels. Having bypassed the formidable Byzantine fleet by land, the Russian warriors attacked from the rear under cover of night. In close combat, the dromons lost their advantage, many of them were simply boarded, even the legendary Greek fire did not help, so quickly did the Uruses converge in close combat. After a bloody battle, the entire Byzantine fleet perished, the Bosphorus Gates fell, and the arrogant Byzantines were forced to agree to a shameful capitulation, having paid a huge tribute. Then the great prince Prophetic Oleg took away the throne of the Byzantine emperor. If it had not been for the fatal bite of a Hindu (obviously brought by some foreign sorcerer!) viper hiding in a horse's skull, who knows, Prince Oleg would not have become the Russian Genghis Khan. Over the centuries since the time of Constantine, the shine of Byzantine glory has slightly dimmed, but the city still amazes. The Cathedral of St. Sophia is especially great, a real miracle of the world of that time. Constantinople is a huge peninsula jutting out into the sea. High white walls with quadrangular and hexagonal towers seem to grow out of the rocky granite shore. And the Golden Horn is decorated with a gigantic lighthouse, shining at night like forty moons and a fortress-palace carried away into the heights. On the left side, at the tip of the peninsula, above the sea, between the slender cypresses, one could see the diverse assemblies of the emperors' palaces - the Second Rome, decorated with numerous fountains and colossal statues, especially many gilded griffins. All this curled in bizarre curls. The Cathedral of Saint Sophia seemed to hang in the blue sky, so unusual and light was its construction. And several rows of white walls, according to Roman legend, Apollo and Poseidon helped to build them. Many Byzantines now secretly worship the most ancient antique gods. Only the Almighty Lord knows how many tens, and maybe hundreds of thousands of slaves perished at the construction sites. Further from the palaces, the city looked different, also stone, but grayer, although flourishing. The buildings seemed to rise up the steps, higher and higher. They stretch to the horizon, merging with the dark cornflower-blue clouds. The building of the Supreme Court resembles a golden horn, crowned with a menacing lion's muzzle. At this hour, when the sun has already crossed the zenith, and slightly weakened its heat, from the countless ships that have sailed from all over the world, dropped anchor and are resting in the calm waters, the water is not visible. There were ships that had made a long and difficult journey along the Russian Sea - merchants from the state of the Shakharmens, from Shirvan, Baghdad, devastated Khorezm, Kashkar and China and many other countries were traveling on them. There were also from India, Arabia, Egypt, the Hansa and Europe. Various voices and many languages were heard on the ships. Overseas merchants were constantly exchanging, buying, selling, haggling furiously. Beyond the golden Horn, the Coast of Peru paled, it resembled a slightly embellished city of Vladimir. Here and there churches and towers rose up, the largest tower of Christ hung over the sea. And in the distance, in the rays of the gentle sun, the mountains turned blue and shimmered like pearls.
  - Beauty! - exclaimed the beautiful princess Dolgorukaya, and her cornflower-blue eyes widened. - What a delightful view! But I don't want to admire the beauty of Constantinople, I want to see my children.
  The saucer changed its image, moving to the slave market. The place allocated for the slave market was vast and fenced with an iron fence. Thousands of slaves were brought out for all to see. Representatives of all nations from the Hyperboreans to the South Africans were at the market. Chinese, Germans and blacks were being sold here. In this wild gathering, Princess Mirabela could hardly see her children. They were pushed through together with another fifty multi-faced naked people, both boys and girls.
  The Slavs are mostly represented here, but there are yellow, narrow-eyed Asians, and black curly-haired negroes. Her offspring, completely naked, were exposed, roasting in the midday sun, and only their knees were smeared with chalk, they stood on a podium sprinkled with canary sand. Every now and then they were forced to dance, sing, lift stones and twirl sticks.
  She had seen them, raised them in the past, and only a couple of months had passed since their separation. Her children, three boys and two girls, despite their sad slave lot, were cheerful and energetically performed a Russian folk dance. They had dried out and lost weight a little, their skin was covered with a nice brown tan, but their appearance was generally quite healthy and well-groomed - they had been fed well before the trade. Well-fed goods sell better.
  But the mind and feelings of a child are much more elastic than those of an adult. They have forgotten their separation, and that they recently suffered in shackles; you can still see barely noticeable traces of the shackles on their wrists and ankles. The huge city, wonderful, not like their remote farm, arouses the keenest curiosity. And the boys shout, trying to show off their skills. These are still pagan times, and no one is accustomed to being ashamed of their nakedness, or to immerse themselves in a sanctimonious ritual. It seems that these are not slaves, but children at a beach party.
  However, it was impossible to sell the captives. A merchant in a rich crimson robe embroidered with pearls meticulously examined the live goods, forced them to open their mouths, felt their teeth.
  -Buy it!
  The pirate-like salesman in the colorful turban began to jingle. In a mournful voice he began to praise his "goods":
  -They are healthy, strong and have excellent teeth.
  Kupchina shook his head negatively and growled in a baritone:
  -They are too small!
  The corsair with a bandage over his left eye said with fervor:
  - All the better, you will be able to teach them crafts, unlike stupid adults. They are capable and they will bring in pure profit.
  But this argument had no effect.
  -Exactly. First, train, not one year of work, not knowing the end result! The market is already full of excellent adult craftsmen. After the Mongol raids, the markets were overflowing with slaves.
  The merchant spat with deliberate contempt and walked away, importantly shaking his impressive belly.
  -Oh! Great Allah! - The pirate growled, looking warily at the marching Praetorians. They'll have to pay up, but for now the profit is a pittance. - Help sell these "crucians", at least for a price that will cover the costs!
  A thought flashed through my head: what would be better if I couldn"t sell them, sell them at a loss or just kill them?
  The sad thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of another potential buyer.
  He didn't look particularly pretentious, wearing leather sandals and a modest tunic. His long, curly beard hung like a sponge down his chest. But many greeted him respectfully and made way for him when they saw him.
  -This is Samuel, the great sculptor and artist.
  They were whispering in the crowd. Samuel approached the marketplace, something caught the attention of his keen eyes. The princess herself looked closely, bringing her fresh face very close to the image, almost piercing the saucer with her nose.
  Her middle son, Avenir, was drawing a picture on the yellow sand with a twig. The overseer snapped the whip, the tip scratched the boy's bony, chocolate-colored back, but he paid no attention to the bite. The fanatic wanted to add more force, but was stopped by an expressive gesture from Samuel. The famous artist came closer, carefully looking at the image - two persons were frozen and at the same time flowing on the sand: a young man and a girl, and a dove was fluttering above. The graceful figures seemed alive with amazingly clear drawing of individual details. Samuel poked the boy with his finger, in a thin shoulder with a fresh strip swollen from the blow:
  -What is your name, child? - The artist asked in pure Russian with a soft Latin accent.
  The boy answered clearly, straightening his back and trying to show that there were some muscles on his thin arms by wildly straining them:
  -Avenir! - And then he corrected himself. - That is, Avenir Dolgoruky!
  - So, Abner, I'll take you! - Samuel said decisively. - How much is he worth?
  The merchant replied with a grin:
  -Such people are worth their weight in gold...
  Waking up, the prince involuntarily shuddered, although the summer night in the Balkans was warm. He felt himself infinitely humiliated. Was he really going to be put up for sale like some kind of cattle? He absolutely had to run.
  However, it is easier said than done. Firstly, he will hardly be able to go far on his bloody legs, and secondly, a leopard is following them, keeping a close eye on the slaves.
  After a modest breakfast, Avenir walked the next day on his own. It hurt, of course, but the flat white tiles are not that painful for the feet. Besides, the color of chalk does not heat up too much.
  However, his strength lasted only half a day. Then the prince's calves began to ache so much that he asked to be carried on his back again. It was a good thing that his two peers-serfs were specially selected from among the strongest and most resilient serf children. If the pampered Avenir had been alone, he might not have made it.
  The slave passage gradually became routine. Avenir quickly became tanned, his broken legs healed like a dog's, and his stamina increased with each passing day. Only he was very hungry.
  The food was poor and the once plump boy was rapidly losing weight. His ribs were already sticking out and his skin was becoming thinner and thinner due to the burnt fat.
  The Balkan Trail lasted about three hundred miles, and then the mountains began. And here again for bare, childish feet a real torture. True, the soles, having healed from the cuts, noticeably roughened, and because the prince had lost weight, the specific pressure coefficient was significantly reduced.
  But Avenir still couldn't walk for long on large gravel and pebbles. His soles hurt, cracked and bled. Even some of the hardened local boys had a hard time - their rough soles hurt a lot. Petka and Vaska, however, were patient and didn't refuse to give Avenir a lift. And the prince himself tried to walk as much of the way as possible.
  They climbed higher and higher into the mountains: it became cool at night. To keep warm, the boys had to sleep leaning against each other. At first, the prince found it disgusting to touch the plebeians with his naked bodies. But the greedy Ottomans did not give out blankets, and in the mountains, even in summer, it gets unbearably cold at night. With a bare torso and limbs, you can"t get enough sleep.
  We all had to lie hugging each other, warming each other.
  It's true that my bare feet had gotten too cold during the night. The first few kilometers they hurt a lot, and then the blood started to spread through them, but every vein still rang along the way.
  The mountain road was winding, and the torture was dragging on. Hunger was constantly tormenting the boys, and they even nibbled grass and gnawed any more or less suitable berries. They did not disdain raw mushrooms either. Petka caught fish in a stream with his hands a couple of times and handed the catch to his master, the prince. He selfishly gobbled up the scaly ones himself.
  The boys even ate earthworms, or locusts, if they got in their way. Avenir, feeling an unpleasant rumbling in his stomach, remembered luxurious feasts, his mother, and his rich house.
  And here he is, shaking naked from the cold...
  After a month and a half of marching, the former prince looked into the stream... And did not recognize himself. His skin had become completely black from dirt and sunburn, his hair and eyebrows, on the contrary, had burnt out in the sun like overripe wheat, his plump cheeks had fallen, his eyes had sunk into his emaciated face. His well-fed, strong body now resembled an Egyptian mummy. Avenir had seen such in the Kunz Chamber and in the Winter Palace.
  True, he liked the tanned skin better than the pale one. But to what extent did he look like a slave? True, the prince was rarely beaten - having received the order, the Ottomans took care of the boy. Others were whipped even more often and they looked no better.
  Petka, who was stocky and had a chest and shoulders that were too broad for his age, had lost a lot of weight. His ribs had become prominent, his heroic chest had become bony, his abs had sunk like tiles, and his stomach was almost stuck to his spine.
  In the last few days, Avenir had been walking exclusively on his own. His bare soles were covered with a callused crust, and they almost didn't hurt from the sharp stones and mountain embankments. Only at night they itched badly, and he had to hit them hard against something sharp to stop the itching.
  Avenir added endurance, and the prince was now sure that he would be able to survive slavery and wait until the Russian army rescued him from captivity. Or, upon concluding peace, an exchange would take place. After all, he was a noble person, and the Tsar would definitely include him in the list.
  Unless the war drags on even longer and the formidable Napoleon comes out on the side of the Turks.
  And the war was indeed dragging on. Grand Vizier Osman Pasha spent the entire month of July in the occupied fortress, waiting for the arrival of Ismail Pasha's army.
  Kutuzov tried to gather his few forces and waited for the Turks to cross the Danube. There was a risk that the Ottomans would not risk crossing the natural water barrier at all, but would wait for the following year and Napoleon's invasion of Russia.
  In principle, the vizier, knowing the level of combat training of the Turkish army, was indeed inclined to the idea of delaying the attack on Romania. Or to gather even more forces.
  Kutuzov himself was also threatened with disgrace for the seemingly unnecessary surrender of Ruschuk. But the emperor hesitated, and this allowed the legendary commander to retain his post. And even to demand the transfer of two more divisions to reinforce his forces.
  After Kutuzov retreated to the left bank, the vizier occupied Ruschuk, but did not move from there throughout July, waiting for the results of Izmail Bey's actions. This commander arrived at Vidin only in mid-July and on July 20 began to transport his troops (about 20 thousand) across the Danube. Having occupied Kalafat and, having dug in strongly, he moved against Zass's detachment (about 5 thousand). The Ottomans attacked with all their fury, but were unable to seize the inaccessible Russian position.
  When on July 24 the detachments of O'Rourke and Count Vorontsov joined Zass and, in addition, the Russian flotilla approached the Danube, Izmail Bey was deprived of the opportunity to break into Little Wallachia.
  Time passed, and August had already arrived. Indeed, the idea itself of avoiding unnecessary risk and waiting until the next one with Napoleon's supposed march to Moscow seemed quite sound.
  Meanwhile, under pressure from the Sultan, the Vizier decided to cross to the left bank in order to use the enormous superiority of his forces to defeat Kutuzov. Well, and, threatening Zass's reports, to force him to open the road to Izmail Bey. The Vizier's preparations continued for a long time, so that only on the night of August 24 did his troops begin to cross, 4 miles above Ruschuk. By September 2, there were already up to 36 thousand Ottomans on the left bank, where, as was their custom, they immediately dug in.
  But that was not all; up to 30 thousand were left on the right bank. Instead of immediately attacking Kutuzov, who had no more than 10 thousand soldiers at his disposal, the vizier remained in place. Thanks to his inaction, the commander-in-chief managed to attract General Essen's detachment, which was stationed on the Olte River. He used it (as a reserve for Zass), and, realizing that a critical moment in the war had arrived, he did not wait for orders from Petersburg regarding the 9th and 15th divisions, but disposed of them of his own free will.
  Although there was a risk in this: he sent the first order to hurry to Giurzha, and the second to Obileshti, to cover the left wing of the army from the side of Turtucaia and Silistria, from where the enemy was also threatening to appear.
  Prince Avenir and his friends did not know about these events. The Turkish convoy itself got lost in the mountains, and therefore the party of slaves lingered for so long, having walked hundreds of leagues on bare feet in two and a half months, and only arrived in Istanbul in mid-September.
  After the mountain steeps, the movement along the plain was already akin to a pleasant walk. The food for the young slaves improved, as they had to be prepared for the auctions.
  Here the lands developed by the Turks were already there - rich and flourishing. Sometimes even on the roads there appeared dancers in transparent capes and only panties. They danced to the music, forcing the slave boys to blink their eyes.
  But already on the approaches to Istanbul itself, the Ottomans were building additional reinforcements just in case. A small group of boys, as they say, were put to work.
  The foreman, whose work was being disrupted, paid a small sum of money for the "rent". The leader of the detachment was tempted by the opportunity to put something in his personal pocket. Moreover, autumn is the time of the influx of slaves, and their prices fall. It is better to push through new slaves when there is a shortage of them after winter, and they are the most expensive.
  The boys were brought to the embankment and ordered to take off their loincloths and plunge into the sea...
  Avenir happily plopped into the water. After the scorching sun, the sea water was so soft and velvety. At some point, the boy prince found himself at the very height of bliss. You splash like a fish in the ocean. The muscles exhausted by the crossing relax, and the itch in your calloused, cracked heels subsides. And you lie on your back and rock.
  You are now in a cozy cradle. The waves slowly and surely swayed, carried away into the quiet pool without a goal...
  But the menacing shouts of the Janissaries, and even shots right over their heads, force them to return.
  Then they all get shaved bald. Without soap, but quite skillfully, with almost no cuts. The procedure is not the most pleasant. The prince's lush hair falls in chunks onto the large pebbles. And it seems to the boy that in each light, sun-bleached hair, a piece of his soul has been torn out by the roots.
  After shaving, they are doused with ice water and given new loincloths. And that's it... If adult slaves still wear some rough wooden shoes and sackcloths, then the boys are supposed to toil naked until winter.
  Only a chain with a cannonball is also attached to the right leg... The cannonball, however, is small and wooden, so as not to interfere with walking, but you can"t run too fast with it.
  After that, the boys were sent to the labor furnace. They had to load wheelbarrows with stones, then pull them up and dump them. And also chip out stones with crowbars, hoes, and picks.
  The work is organized well... The boys work separately from the adults, and they alternate in different operations. But it's still hard.
  Avenir, who was naturally strong, barely moved the car from its place. Moreover, his partner was not Petya, but some kid smaller than the prince.
  Two boys were dragging a wheelbarrow and a half that was big enough for adults. They had to push against sharp stones scattered everywhere, which dug hard into their calloused soles. Even through the rough skin, Avenir felt the pricks. And then you push the wheelbarrow up.
  Not everyone can handle it. Many fall and are raised by cruel blows of the whip. Avenir, when he hesitated, was burned on the left side by the whip. The proud prince gnashed his teeth and quickened his pace. Now, at last, the seemingly endless path comes to an end, and you unload the wheelbarrow.
  It's easy to roll it back now and Avenir smiles sincerely. No shouting yet. And you have to pick up a shovel and help the other boys load the boulders.
  And again to drag up... For the boys the daily norm is no less than thirty wheelbarrows, and that's not counting other work. Knyazhich already felt that he could no longer push, when suddenly they were interrupted. Probably there was some special work rhythm for the newcomers. The whips whistled and the newcomers were driven faster to the pile of stacked tools. Prince Avenir was given a hammer with sharpened ends and a basket for collecting. They took him to the boys picking at the stones. The overseer sternly ordered:
  - Break the stone into rubble and carry it to the wheelbarrows with the other boys. And watch out, work faster!
  Avenir, taking the heavy hammer more firmly in his hands, struck the stones with all his might. He felt the recoil in his mice, stone dust got into his nostrils. His more experienced partner, a boy of about fourteen, with sharp wires of protruding tendons, prompted:
  - Don't put your mind into the blow. Firstly, you won't last long, and secondly, you'll raise a lot of dust. Strike, relaxed, relying only on the weight of the hammer.
  Avenir nodded weakly:
  - We are according to the royal etiquette! Only the newcomers had their heads shaved, the rest of the slave boys had only carelessly trimmed hair, black, red, blond. At that time, the Ottoman Empire had not yet been subjected to ethnic cleansing, full of slaves from all over Europe, and there were a lot of blond boys.
  Avenir works, swinging his hammer, and if he stops a bit, the whip whistles. Then, having loaded the basket, he almost runs to the far corner, where it is all unloaded onto a cart. The wide strap of the basket pulls down on his shoulders. And then he chops the stone again.
  Avenir tries to imagine that he is simply Ilya Muromets, and thus trains. The boy's bare, bloody feet step on the mountain stones, and there is also a weight pressing down on top.
  It's hard and it's getting harder with each hour. Avenir is sweating, he's terribly hungry and especially thirsty.
  The hammer seems heavier and heavier. No, this is not a juvenile detention center, where essentially no one works properly, and it is illegal to force a teenager to work for more than four hours. This is slavery, cruel Ottoman slavery.
  As soon as the prince slows down, the whip whistles and painfully touches his neck, scratching his freshly shaved head. But the fatigue recedes from this. Now one of the newcomers falls in complete exhaustion. The whip falls on him. The overseer, a bull almost two meters tall, beats a skinny boy, apparently about eleven years old, putting in blows. The boy screams desperately in pain, rises with great effort, blood dripping from him. He takes a few more steps with the load and falls again. And again the heavy whip buzzes.
  Prince Avenir turned pale:
  - So they will kill him to death!
  The partner warned in a barely audible voice:
  - Don't climb! If you stand up for yourself, a cross awaits you! Hold on with all your might, otherwise, if you fall, you won't be able to get up.
  The boy who was being beaten quiets down. To make sure he is ready, a lit torch is brought to the boy's rough, bare heels. Smoke billows out and a distinct smell of something burning begins to spread.
  Avenir swallowed involuntarily, painful, hungry spasms began in his stomach. Burnt meat evoked memories of a hunt where they fried wild boar kebabs. Now they were stopped and ordered to load gravel with wide shovelfuls. The captive boys obeyed and began to work.
  Avenir throws rubble and pebbles with a shovel, trying not to show the pain; not only does every muscle in his body ache painfully, but the fresh calluses on his hands are also sore. And that's bad. The bastards didn't give him any mittens, and his hands need to go through the same hell as the prince's bare feet, broken by the rocky roads.
  His mouth is dry, even swallowing is excruciatingly painful, and his stomach literally collapses from the strain. But the boy pushes, trying to hold back his groans, the cut on his head stings with salty sweat running down. The slave boys breathe heavily, but try. Finally, the carts are loaded and other slaves are pushing.
  Avenir and a dozen boys are driven to the stones again. Whips lash at bare legs, making them jump like kangaroos. The boys, trembling with terror, hit with all their might, even beads of sweat, chestnut-colored from dust, fly off their dark-brown bodies. Some of the young slaves groan from the pain that cramps their tired muscles.
  Avenir holds on, tries to breathe deeply so that his lungs are better ventilated with air. Yes, work can be torture, it's good that it's already getting dark, maybe they'll take them to rest.
  No, he is not as hardy as the prince thought after two and a half months of marching through various passes. In hard labor everything is different. And the veins ring like strings under the fingers of a skilled musician. But he will have to toil like this for more than one month and will he even live to see his release?
  The guards do not respond to the call for evening prayer; they have more important things to do than this ritual. And Avenir mentally curses all the infidel gods and tries not to give another reason for a blow.
  The boy miscalculated a little, the work stopped only when the stars scattered across the sky. The muscles ached, the body was on strike, I wanted nothing more than to fall down and not move.
  The boys were finally fed, having been given the opportunity to wash off the sweat and dust from their hands in the stream. Or rather, they were even ordered to do so. And what about the Ottomans, pragmatists, that dirt causes terrible epidemics, that they mow down slaves, and that is a loss...
  The dinner itself was served in portions, it was fruit porridge mixed with fish and garlic (the latter also has bactericidal properties!). The food smelled delicious, but the tired prince-slave could no longer distinguish the taste, he was already praying to God to quickly fall on the mat and fall into the arms of Morpheus. After eating, the slaves were taken to bed.
  Avenir could barely move his legs, as if they were pressed against large, prickly gravel. Petka, who had been more accustomed to him since early childhood, looked more cheerful and nodded sympathetically to the prince:
  - Hold on, your Excellency! May the Russian spirit be with us!
  After these words, Avenir's hunched back straightened, and his eyes, clouded with fatigue, sparkled with rage.
  He is a prince, of an ancient family, and he cannot resign himself to the fate of slavery.
  The boys spent the night in a special cave, where poorly planed boards and shackles lay. In general, as Avenir initially noted, shackles are usually not put on boys, except for some who have done something wrong. Chains in the Islamic world are quite expensive, and only interfere with work. But the prince and a dozen newcomers who had not yet been branded were still fastened with a chain with a weight on their right leg. Now it would not be so easy to run away.
  Avenir, however, no longer paid attention to anything, he simply fell and fell asleep instantly. The boy's sleep was heavy, many of the boys moaned in their sleep.
  Avenir dreamed that he had ended up in the Middle Ages and was caught and interrogated along with other witches on charges of witchcraft. The wheel and stretching of joints in a special machine were used as torture. Horror, and then injections with sharp needles into muscles, into nerve endings, dripping of red-hot iron and burning oil onto the body.
  The boy screamed and woke up. It was dark, cramped and stuffy in the cave barracks from the many bodies of young slaves. It's good that in this barracks only minors sleep, who don't smell as strong and unpleasant as adults. Only there are many of them, naked bodies literally lying one on top of the other... Here it is, captivity, slavery and the chain that fettered the childish, bare foot of the heir of millions and a branch of the royal family!
  Oleg Rybachenko even whistled and shouted:
  - A branch of the royal family and a great breed!
  And the boy took off his shorts and plunged into the river. He swam in it. How nice it was.
  In general, it is good to be young and immortal. Soon he will have women too. That is how much his male perfection has grown. What is possible, he will have to carry out missions and seduce women at the same time. And so it is quite natural - the tool must be large enough to seduce the ladies. And he himself is still a child in height and body.
  Well, never mind, he's already a count and a colonel. And in the future he wants to become a general, or even better, a generalissimo.
  Here Suvorov rose to the rank of Generalissimo. Many consider him to be the best commander of all times and nations. It's a pity that his genius was not fully revealed due to the not very decisive tsars on the Russian throne.
  If Napoleon had been invincible like Alexander Suvorov and had lived seventy years, he would have conquered the whole world!
  Oleg Rybachenko had a good swim. And returned to the shore. He pulled on his shorts and decided that it would be better not to take a break for sleep, but to run faster.
  I wanted to fight, and, to be honest, to get general's epaulettes.
  Since the next big war won't be soon... True, there is still Japan.
  We'll have to take revenge for the defeat from the samurai! Well, good luck!
  It's a good thing that Tsar Nicholas II was not overthrown.
  Istanbul and Vienna have been taken, and the Russian bayonet is aimed at Berlin.
  Oleg chirped:
  - We are marching on Berlin,
  We see the distances of communism...
  Conquers the Russian world,
  Under Nikolai's command!
  Yes, how glorious Russian history could have been. In general, so much was missed. Tsar Nicholas II could have entered the Mediterranean Sea and completed the gathering of the Slavs, returning all the lands to Russia that previously belonged to Kievan Rus.
  In general, under the Tsar, everything went for the better. In terms of political and religious freedoms, democracy and economics. And in the twenty-first century, there would have been more democracy and freedom in the Tsarist Russia of the Romanovs than in Putin's presidential Russia.
  Indeed, doesn't Putin have the power of a tsar? In fact, Russia is an absolute monarchy.
  And under Nicholas II there is already a parliament: the State Duma! Although, of course, can the tsar abolish it?
  There are some reasons for restoring autocratic absolutism.
  Oleg Rybachenko, however, decided not to give the Tsar any advice for now. He was disgusted with authoritarianism in his heart because of Putin and Lukashenko, but the State Duma would also be an eternal breeding ground for riots and revolutions.
  . CHAPTER #18.
  Pavel-Lev woke up and did his exercises. After which the pirate fleet was already in Toruga. Well, and in the joy of such a victory, this famous naval commander got drunk like a pig again. And he began to snore and see dreams.
  The officer, continuing the meticulous search, began to breathe heavily and his voice rasped:
  - Well, why have you stopped, spies? Take off your panties and bras too.
  Augustina nodded obediently:
  - We understand, it's a test.
  She, and after her Marusya, unfastened their bras, carefully exposed first one. Such a seductive one, similar to chocolate ice cream with a scarlet strawberry nipple in the middle, then the other, no less magnificent. Marusya's bust was high, slightly upturned, the ideal shape, erotically arousing, and her nipples were shining. The mutant girls dynamically felt like strippers and slightly twisted their thin waists, bending the sharply protruding abdominal tiles.
  The jail officer shouted:
  - Why did you stop? And take off your panties too.
  Marusya blushed. She thought it was too much. Well, how could this be, although it was clear that it was a search.
  - Maybe we shouldn't! - The girl squeaked.
  The officer yelled:
  - What did you say! Maybe invite the guard warriors to hold you and pinch you at the same time.
  - Okay, Marusya. Go all the way! - Augustina declared and began to take off her panties.
  Marusya submitted to her, or maybe even more to the catalog system, it is still not worth bringing the matter to assault. Although it is so shameful, the eyes of the man, a secret police officer, by the way, half Tatar, are drilling into her like lasers. Her hands are like cotton wool, her fingers do not bend, her sports shorts do not want to be pulled up.
  Augustina encourages her:
  - You must be psychologically stable. What is a simple personal search procedure to you? Or have you never been examined by scientists, including men?
  Marusya recalls:
  - Yes, they examined me! Why am I being so bluff?
  The mutant girl almost tore her panties, throwing them on the floor. Now both beauties were completely naked. Their Venus grotto was covered with thin hairs, their hips were lush and not a drop of fat, even their buttocks were made of solid muscles. The veins of the girls trembled from excitement, and vibrated like a web in the wind.
  The officer became cheerful:
  - Well, the spies have shed their artificial skin, showing what you really are. I must say, quite impressive. Maybe you were sent to seduce Marshal Vasilevsky.
  - It is a matter of honor to conquer such a knight! - Augustina said without pretense.
  - In the meantime, the whores will examine you thoroughly.
  The ranger girls' clothes were immediately grabbed and taken to the next room. In particular, they began to rip apart the overalls and tried to cut the soles of the boots. But then a problem arose - the durable hyperplastic could not be cut. So they had to run for a diamond drill. Three employees approached the naked mutant girls. They began the personal search with their hair. Having tousled the beauties' lush hairdos, they began to comb them with a special comb, simultaneously forcing them to move their arms farther to the sides and spread their fingers. The combs were quite rough and it was a little painful for the ranger girls. Marusya even said with bewilderment.
  - What can you hide in your hair?
  The warden searching the girl explained:
  - Everything in particular is coded font. A tiny note can easily be hidden in such hair. And in general I can give the order to shave you immediately, but I feel sorry for such beauty.
  - Yes, our hair is wealth. - The blonde ranger was seriously scared.
  Indeed, what delightful colors Marusya and Augustina have. The hair itself is slightly curled and wavy. Marusya's colors are light gold and sun. Augustina's are like a raging flame, or the color of a red flag. A real treasure, really, what a barbarian you have to be to cut them. However, the search takes time to comb through each thick strand. A fourth girl came to the aid of the three employees, and the work went faster.
  "What happened to the spies' manes?" asked the prison officer.
  - Yes, sir, - the guards answered.
  - Go on, - the boss waved.
  The ears were next, with the help of hearing instruments they examined the eardrums, bent the auricle itself and listened to it. They didn't ignore the noses either, carefully palpated each nostril and even blew through it with miniature bellows. They made her open it, move her tongue back and shined a flashlight into her mouth. Marusya felt humiliated.
  - What fresh breath they have! - one of the female employees admired. - It smells of herbs and berries. - Unable to resist, she kissed the honey blonde Marusya on the lips. The jail officer shouted:
  - It is not allowed to kiss detainees.
  The ranger girls were forced to stick out their tongues, then they were tugged several times, moved from side to side. It was quite unpleasant when a hand in slippery rubber gloves held such a sensitive place. A hard finger with a taste of Vaseline touched the tonsils and scraped the roof of the mouth. They were forced to cough again. Having finally finished examining the lush heads, the female servants went down to the chest and shoulders. They especially carefully examined the armpits, which turned out to be clean and hairless, then they went over the arms, twisted the fingers, looked under the nails, even poked there with needles. But they did not find the device that carried out the truth serum, so skillfully they hid it, implanting it in the hardened bones of the mutant girls. The search was not someone's whim, the spies really hid many surprises in their bodies.
  The breasts were subjected to careful examination, they were rather roughly felt, apparently suspecting that something dangerous could be hidden in such beauty, or silicone could be injected. The navel was also examined, fingers were picked at it, one of the guards even took a device similar to a dental drill and picked at the skin, causing pain to the girls. The officer's gaze became stern:
  - Now, whores, spread your legs. We'll check your most intimate places.
  - Maybe we shouldn't! - asked Marusya, blushing deeply, in a trembling voice.
  The supervising officer became even more delighted:
  - Yeah, that's where you usually hide something. Hurry up!
  Augustina obediently spread her legs and bent slightly to make it more comfortable for the servants. The red-haired devil even smiled, purring with pleasure. Patient Marusya tried to repeat after her, but when a gloved hand plunged between her legs, digging its fingers as hard as wood into the most sensitive part of a woman's body, she desperately broke free and ran away.
  The officer commanded:
  - Take the spy, she has something!
  Several powerful, specially trained soldiers with batons rushed at her. Marusya knocked one of them off his feet with an elusive movement of her hand, another fell from a push with his head.
  - Don't you dare resist, that's an order! - the officer yelled desperately.
  The ranger girl froze and received a couple of hard blows to the head, which would have knocked out a normal person, as well as to her bare shoulders and back.
  - Enough! - the officer commanded. - Torture awaits them later, but for now, if they are submissive, we will spare them.
  The older of the employees approached the girl ranger, who was being held by the hands. The mannish overseer said tenderly:
  - Tilt it to make it more comfortable.
  - Please, be careful, I'm still a virgin, - said Marusya, almost crying, a tear running down her pink cheek.
  The officer barked menacingly:
  - With such an appearance, and still intact. It's a lie - spies are never innocent.
  The prison employee carefully checked Marusya, putting her hand between her legs; she was shaking with shame, the girl was alternately hot and cold.
  - Yes, she really is a virgin! - the warden exclaimed in surprise.
  The prison guard major remarked skeptically:
  - Now surgery allows you to trivially stitch up the spleen, and put a microfilm inside. So open it up, and we'll probably find out the secret.
  - Yes sir, commander! - the warden shouted.
  It was painful and unpleasant, especially since the virgin captivity did not yield to the influence of a hand trained in searches. In the end, they cut it with a razor. The whole process was painful, Marusya even moaned. True, not too much blood poured out, after which they probed her to the uterus. From which a painful desire to urinate arose. They examined her anus rather roughly, spreading it with nippers. The innocent ranger girl was half-fainting, not so much from pain, but from terrible humiliation, they treated her no more than a guinea pig. Only terrorists are examined so thoroughly.
  The next stage was an examination of the legs and feet. Rubber gloves passed between the toes, which was ticklish and even funny. The girls were forced to lift their legs and bend and unbend their feet. Although the soles of the girls are hard and elastic, there are no obvious calluses. The guards press on the thick, pinkish skin, prick with sharp needles, which is not so pleasant. They looked under the nails, despite the lack of varnish, the natural color is like the inside of a sea shell. And the needle also passed through, piercing the skin.
  After which the ranger girls were examined from head to toe by the guards. After which the thin gloves made of durable, transparent rubber were thrown into the boiler for disinfection. An employee with extensive experience in personal searches noted:
  - They have very rough feet, even the needle is made of special steel, they are crooked, it is obvious that they were engaged in martial arts and ran barefoot a lot.
  The major yelled at the top of his lungs:
  - It's typical for spies! And look how she knocked down a powerful soldier, she clearly knows karate. Maybe they're even Japanese spies?
  - Now let's X-ray their stomachs and intestines, - another officer reminded.
  The major confirmed just in case and asked again:
  - That's right, they can hide a secret inside. What did they find in the clothes?
  - Some kind of spotted machine with a tiny antenna and numbers, - the warden said slowly. - But it doesn't look like explosives.
  - We'll give it to the experts. = The major decided.
  "They're portable computers," Augustine said. "They can talk to you if you want. I'll turn them on."
  The major yelled and even automatically pulled out a double-barreled revolver:
  - Don't move, defendant, you can destroy the data. And how come he wasn't found right away?
  The warden spread her hands in confusion:
  - It was in too close contact with the body, and besides, we had reliable, albeit thin, armor.
  - Yes, under the uniform they wear a kind of chainmail that a diamond can't cut, - the girls checking said.
  - Will you tell me the secret of its production? - The major frowned, his unkind look promising cruel torture.
  The girls answered in chorus:
  - Of course, nothing is a pity for our Motherland!
  - What did you say? - The jailer officer became furious.
  The warrior continued pompously:
  - We are not from your world, but we were also born in Russia and are ready to do anything for the sake of our Motherland!
  The major twisted his pimply face even more:
  - You're playing the fool, but when your bodies start smoking from the current, I hope you'll tell me everything.
  Marusya, who did not want to test the strength of her own mutated flesh with high voltage current, began to babble:
  - Isn't torture prohibited in your civilized country?
  The major answered without anger:
  - Against spies: in wartime conditions the law allows physical measures. - And he added sarcastically. - And since it's your country, not your Motherland, that means you're definitely not ours!
  While the jail officer was talking, the mutant girls were brought to a large X-ray machine, forced to raise their hands, held, and scanned. Then a surprised cry followed:
  - This is incredible!
  - That's incredible! - The prison officer jumped up from his black leather chair.
  The guards pointed their fingers:
  - Look for yourself, Major!
  - I hope you found the font. - The major jumped up to the screen. Between the ribs of each girl, two hearts were beating at once. On the right and on the left side. They were knocking in unison. The sizes are quite normal for people and, perhaps, the hearts are even flatter and more compact.
  - Wow! Unique people! There's already something to report to the authorities. - The prison officer was delighted with the unexpected find. - And nothing else was discovered?
  - The stomach is a little different, like the shape of the intestines. That is, the girls have slightly different organisms than we do! - said the doctor who examined them.
  - That's good, - the major said ambiguously. - That way we'll deal with them much better.
  Having finished scanning the mutant girls, the warriors were taken to another room! There they were measured, weighed, and began to copy down the signs from their naked bodies. Of course, Marusya and Augustina had birthmarks, but they were small and barely noticeable, just a couple of them. But there were no burns or scars, everything healed instantly without leaving even a trace on their olive skin. They examined them in every way possible, even brought out a special set of magnifying glasses, shone spotlights on them, and even examined individual areas of skin under a microscope. And they photographed them from different angles, trying to record in detail the entire surface of their beautiful bodies.
  Afterwards they were taken to "play the piano", to copy fingerprints and all areas of the palm. The procedure is familiar to the ranger girls. Then they did the same with their teeth and lips. And it is not pleasant when they smear paint on luscious lips and make them bite plasticine smelling of turpentine. After that they made them make prints-casts of bare feet - and at different angles, knees, elbows and chiseled ears.
  The mutant girls felt dirty and studied like a fortress that had been explored. Having completed their inspection, they were taken to a special room. Marusya and Augustine caught their breath, when a cascade of ice-cold water fell on them. The streams came from different points. Then almost immediately boiling water poured out, so much so that it started steaming. The skin began to hum.
  - It looks like they are already using torture against us, - said Marusya, puffing from the thick steam.
  - Be patient and polite. And I'm ashamed of you. A Russian spy, and you burst into tears during the search. - Augustina quickly twirled her finger at her temple. - And what will happen when they stick a red-hot iron under your nails?
  Marusya was really ready to burst into tears:
  - Do you even know how painful it is when you are deprived of your virginity?
  The red-haired devil smiled at the voluptuous memories:
  - It didn't hurt at all. You just didn't want it, that's why you suffered. But if you wanted to accept a man, you would feel bliss.
  - When I read, I'm in books. - Marusya couldn't hide her frustration. - Yes, we can observe the Brizhanino effect, when tissues become stronger under the influence of willpower.
  Augustina laughed with difficulty:
  - You see, silly girl, the opposite effect is also possible.
  - Now everyone will take me for a prostitute. - The blonde terminator burst into tears.
  - Oh, I'm sure that even in this world virginity is not fashionable. And in general in the modern world innocence is a sign that a girl is either too disgusting and no one wants her, or is timid and does not want anyone herself! Pregnancy makes a woman beautiful and is always innocent, virginity is alarming and always vicious! - Augustina said authoritatively.
  Marusya did not agree with this:
  - And it seems to me that your logic is flawed. Besides, innocence is valued not only in Christianity, but also in Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, almost in all religions except perverted sects.
  Augustina stated categorically:
  - Religion is a synonym for the word shackles, not so much for the body as for the mind!
  The conversation distracted the ranger girls from the pain. The major wanted to check how easy it would be to break such victims. The result was disappointing, the mutant girls showed indescribable fortitude. They just turned red as lobsters.
  The major ordered them to be taken out and mockingly asked:
  - Well, how do you like our Russian bathhouse?
  - We are missing brooms, nettle and spruce! - Augustina answered jokingly.
  - And the steam is a bit cold! - Marusya supported the joking tone.
  The major threatened:
  - It's going to get even better. How about dipping you in some bubbling oil?
  - Olive or sunflower? - Augustina tried to appear indifferent, although torture could become a reality.
  - Into the magnificent, machine-made one. - The major said in a serious tone.
  - Then with pleasure! - Marusya smiled broadly. The worst thing had already happened to her, she had lost her innocence.
  The thoroughly washed ranger girls were led to the mirror. The jail officer commanded:
  - Hands forward and squat! That's it! Now stand up and squat again. Turn around, rise up on your toes, walk. Excellent! Cuff your hands!
  The mutant girls were forced to kneel and their ankles were chained to their wrists. They were left sitting in an uncomfortable position.
  - How long do we have to sweat like this? - Augustina was indignant.
  - Shut up, shrews, a cell awaits you. There you will wait for the general's reception.
  About twenty minutes passed, and my bare knees were already itching from the chipped concrete. The guards arrived and shook their heads when asked about the visit from their superiors.
  - Okay then! - said the major. - Put them in the common cell.
  - Should I give them clothes? - asked the warden.
  - Yes - a penalty.
  - I see! - The warden smiled unkindly.
  The ranger girls were unchained and thrown a short dress that looked like a grey rag.
  The clothes were full of holes and washed out, with a faded number on the chest. But the girls' feet were bare. Marusya thought with sympathy about what the penal battalions were going through in the winter.
  - You'll walk around like that until it snows. Then, if you behave well, we'll change your uniform. - The mannish warden smiled carnivorously.
  Augustina, with the confident air of a seasoned warrior, smiled:
  - You can't scare me with frost.
  The warden scowled:
  - That you want to be in an ice chamber, naked and in bright light.
  - If you have nothing better to do, then I'll put up with it. - Augustina tried to seem cheerful. - No, it's not that bad.
  - Take them to the cells, and I warn you girls, there are some real scoundrels there. - The last warning seemed ridiculous to the ranger girls. - But not tougher than us! - Augustina grinned, and Marusya followed her.
  The red-haired devil's pleasant memories were interrupted by a long-awaited announcement. Ahead, on the territory already controlled by Russia, was the large settlement of Beki-Saray with a local garrison consisting mainly of Ottomans. The first part of the plan had been successfully completed and now all that was left was to force the bek to give the order to storm.
  The plundering of a considerable village is already a sufficient reason for war. And Augustine did not want to know conscience. More precisely, her credo: everything that leads to victory is beautiful. To gain the upper hand over the enemy, and the means do not count!
  Beck didn't have to leave the tent, he just had to shout it with his voice, and the devil was very good at imitating any tone. And then the real massacre would begin.
  After the hysterical roar of the false bek, the trumpets thundered and the ten-thousand-strong corps went on the assault. Thousands of hooves clattered, and the infantry rushed after them. Even Persian unicorns fired from a distance. They were answered by two small cannons of the local garrison. Thus began a serious battle.
  Augustina really wanted, perhaps even extremely, to rush into the thick of the battle with swords and chop up the Iranians, but reason told her - now is not the time!
  And they - the whole four of them - will still have time to chop until they become colic, elephants and alcoholics!
  The Ottoman detachment numbers all five hundred fighters. They lowered their guns and, hiding behind the palisade, prepared to fire a volley. The Iranian horsemen, several hundred steps away from the fort, began throwing pots of coal and resin that they had stocked up on in advance into the wooden houses of the village. A dozen curious boys had already been hacked to death, their sulfur heads rolling like football swords near the hooves of the Persian cavalry. And the captured girl's dress was torn off, and they pounced on the beauty without any shame.
  The thatched roofs quickly caught fire, and under cover of thick smoke, the cavalry rushed to the palisade. The infantry, who had arrived, ran after them. There was much roaring and threats, and often the cry of Allah Akbar was heard.
  The horsemen are met with unfriendly shots. Some of them fall, others jump up to the fort and try to climb the palisade. The Ottomans use pikes vigorously. There is a long-standing feud between them and the Persians - Sunnis against Shiites, Iran against the Ottoman Empire.
  The Persians try to take the number, others climb to replace the stabbed ones. And the infantrymen run up and throw grenades. The weapons are not very powerful and quite simple, but they can cripple.
  These gifts fly, and the Turks awkwardly shoot back. But they hit. Here the singing grapeshot lashes out at the Persian infantry ranks. The defeated Iranians fly like knocked-out teeth. And not very effective volleys in response.
  The Persians are taking the numbers, there are many more of them, and in several places they have already crossed the palisade. Hand-to-hand combat has begun on one of the towers.
  The Persian and the Turk bit each other with their teeth, and blood flowed from their thick necks. At the same time, the screams became even more heart-rending and turned into clucking.
  And at the same time, barrels of gunpowder thundered. Apparently, one of the lit arrows shot by the Persian nuker turned out to be extremely accurate.
  But three warriors managed to impale each other on pikes at once. And they were swept away by an avalanche of breaking through Persians.
  Many bearded warriors in caftans were hacked to death and trampled by their own.
  The fire was spreading in the village, robberies and violence began. Although the battle in the fort was still raging. Individual Turks tried to resist, but died under the merciless blows of sabres and broadswords.
  A girl fell with a split skull, and after her a decapitated old man fell. The Asians spared no one, besides women, boys also became victims of sexually preoccupied maniacs. And this was such an abomination that Augustine could not stand it and broke down:
  - Oh, you vile sodomites, I'll get you all!
  And the red-haired devil took out her magic swords, capable of cutting any hardened steel, and, grabbing throwing disks, rushed into battle. The Persians wouldn't be able to navigate in the smoke and soot anyway.
  Augustina first attacked the tent guards. Only a dozen tall nukers remained, the rest rushed to loot. The warrior cut down four with discs, and the rest lay down under the swords, like ears of corn under a sickle. It seemed that the mujahideen did not even have time to understand where the attack came from.
  The red-haired devil sang:
  Over the unfortunate planet hung -
  There are countless numbers of star monsters...
  The occupier with his hated axe -
  Sharpen and chop off the head!
  
  A man is not a stub, not a pawn,
  Believe that you will not walk under the yoke forever!
  Turn evil enemies into firebrands-
  Will become the new ruler of the worlds!
  And a blow in a jump knocking down four riders at once. The red-haired warrior added with her swords and roared:
  - But pasaran!
  First of all, she started chopping up the followers of Sodom. Let the perverts know that this will not go unpunished! Don't dare touch the boys, and the girls too!
  And the warrior moved like a lawn mower with a nuclear reactor instead of a motor. And her fiery, scarlet hair resembled a Bolshevik banner.
  And so the first four hundred Persians who had looked around were ground like grains in a fur. And the bare feet of the terminator girl were splashing puddles of blood with pleasure.
  Augustina roared, gaining speed and speed:
  - You will not escape the wrath of Perun, we will cut you down before the morning!
  And in response, Marusya's unexpected ringing voice. The golden-haired warrior sang:
  Warriors of Darkness,
  True strength!
  Evil rules the world without knowing its number...
  But to you, sons of Satan -
  The power of Christ cannot be broken!
  The blonde terminator, suddenly forgetting her pacifism, cut into the enemy's scattered chains, and, crushing the rapists and marauders, twirled her swords in a dance of annihilation.
  Augustina supported her partner"s impulse and even suggested to Marusya:
  - Well, beauty? Come on, sing! It will be more fun to fight!
  And the blonde terminator sang a real poem;
  In a poor and simple village,
  A boy named Svyatogor was born...
  He ran barefoot in the autumn,
  But I haven't been sick since ancient times!
  
  The Tatar raid, and he is a youth,
  But the strength, the power, like titanium...
  Here comes the end of the enemy,
  The tyrant was left without a head!
  
  The hero's path was not easy,
  Fights, battles - blood flows like a river...
  Here, instead of a city, there is a wasteland,
  Batyga burned my Kyiv...
  
  But Svyatogor is with his sword for Rus',
  He will not give good to the monsters...
  There is only one motto - don't be afraid anywhere -
  They won't burn the Fatherland to the ground!
  
  The Russian warrior gave a cry
  All Russian people, gather together!
  We can achieve a lot,
  When you dream with Maria up high!
  
  Our warrior of light Svyatogor -
  The Tatar invasion will sweep away...
  Russia is above the glory of the mountains,
  And Tartarus awaits the enemy!
  
  Batu laughs, baring his teeth:
  You Russian are simply a weakling!
  I managed to burn down all of Kyiv -
  And you'll get a punch in the nose from Svyatogor!
  
  Our hero didn't start chatting.
  This is not the situation for him...
  When a thief breaks through from hell,
  Then we need to throw them to hell!
  
  The warriors came together, sparking...
  Swords and the ringing crack of shields.
  Batu poured yal from his throat -
  Lost a dozen teeth!
  
  Well, what about the formidable Mongolian khan,
  Did you want land, up to the white ice floes?
  Now the vile boor has been chopped up -
  The devil is his master in the abyss!
  
  The other knights shout:
  For the glory of the Family and Christ!
  You thought Khan was very cool:
  There is no end to the losses of nukers!
  
  The earth has been cleansed and is blooming,
  The bride is magnificently beautiful...
  And we drink sweet honey while feasting,
  The braid tickles my cheeks!
  
  The children were born, and off we go -
  They are happy with the grass as fluff!
  Rush barefoot across the meadow,
  And temper your spirit in the snowdrifts!
  But again wars, the glitter of blades,
  We are going to battle with our sons...
  We'll leave you with some serious bruises,
  We will level the ranks with the fields!
  
  And there will be time, and then -
  Resurrect the fallen boys!
  There will be no boundaries to know the year,
  We are always like foals!
  . CHAPTER #19.
  Pavel-Lev had a little fun. And slept with some beautiful girls. And made love to them, very aggressively. So he went and had some more fun. Then he jumped and jerked around. Then had some more sex with the girls. Then he went and slept, after drinking heavily, and then his brain literally went awry.
  And Pavel-Lev went and fell asleep, after which he saw a wonderful dream:
  Stalenida tried to jump up, but they slid the pole between her hands quite deftly and she only gasped in pain. The leader of the steppe bandits chopped at the branches with his saber and was apparently satisfied:
  - We Nogais have a custom of beating obstinate but beautiful women on the soles of their feet with rods. And the beauty will not suffer, and it hurts! Well, what is your name, Glichanka? Are you happy with this decision?
  The girl, frowning with displeasure, replied:
  - My name is Stalenida and I don't want to be spanked. After all, women need to be caressed, not beaten.
  The leader grinned slyly with his mouth, in which half of the teeth were iron, even covered in rust:
  - No! You will not be treated kindly! We do not spoil the women we put up for sale, although you may not be idle. As True Believers, we have our own concept of duty and honor. And now you will taste the whip.
  Stalenida replied:
  - Just don't hurt.
  A Nogai with a shaved head and broad shoulders suggested:
  - Or maybe it would be better to spank this wonderful yasyr with fire grass! That way it will be bigger and the skin on your feet will be damaged less!
  The leader bared his teeth and tried to cut down the butterfly in mid-air, but missed. He cursed rather foully out of frustration:
  - What a disgrace! Evil shaitans with vile Urus (Russians)! And this woman looks more like... Although no, not a typical Slav. Well, fiery grass, so fiery grass, it will be more fun!
  Stalenida blushed, now they would spank her, beat her on her girlish heels. It was both painful and humiliating. It had to be avoided, but how! Even if the ropes were to be broken, he would not be able to cope with a dozen healthy armed men. This was not a comic book magazine, but a cruel reality. This was not a circus with special forces. The main thing was to maintain her dignity and endure the spanking without screaming or moaning. Of course, she could endure it, not moan or break down! Although she had never been spanked.
  The leader ordered:
  - Get started!
  The broad-shouldered (like a wardrobe) Nogai put on fur mittens. Stalenida was surprised: why did he need this excess on a warm May day. She understood when the voluntary torturer went to the bushes where the nettles grew. He began to tear off a huge bunch. Two other Nogai lifted her bare feet and secured them in a special device that they took off the horse. Apparently, such a punishment was often practiced in the East.
  Stalenida remembered: Fallaca! The oldest method of punishment in the East. When the offender is beaten on the bare heels. Apparently this was done because walking after this was very painful, and the punishment was especially excruciating. It must be said that it was especially often used against children and sometimes it ended tragically. Not to mention the fact that in ancient times children usually walked barefoot (in the south all year round), and could get blood poisoning from damage caused by sticks or a whip, this vile fallaca.
  Nogay felt her heels, tickling them, and grinned:
  - Not common people, but not a noblewoman either! Something in between!
  The leader clarified:
  - In a word, a warrior woman! Well, get started!
  The bare heels of the unusually beautiful girl seductively glittered in the rays of the sun, and such a feature of the beauty, her feet could reflect the light almost like a mirror. Stalenida shrank all over, as if a worm began to move in her lower abdomen, how unpleasant and disgusting it all was. She was like a medieval schoolgirl who was rude to a priest and was being beaten by nuns, only bearded and also terribly smelly. It was not even clear what was worse: to experience a nettle burn or to smell such a stench.
  It seemed that the hand with a whole bush of large steppe nettles was rising too slowly. The shaved head of the Nogai torturer evokes an association with the devil, ready to torture a beautiful, lustful sinner.
  The executioner's grin, the bush falls down, with a quiet swirl. Stalenida felt with her bare feet as if she had landed in a jump on the grass, but did not have time to be surprised (why there was no pain). as she was covered, her legs seemed to be stuck in boiling water. The girl felt as if she was short of air, desperately bit her lip with her teeth. Her stomach fell, Stalenida exhaled, and it became a little easier. The second blow followed, the torturer beat skillfully, trying to cover every millimeter of the girl's skin. The steppe nettle was especially stinging, maybe because of the healthy climate of the late Middle Ages, or a certain set of salts and microelements in the local soils. The girl writhed, unbearably suffering, but at the same time trying to hold back her groans. The blows that rained down on the long toes and the inside of the foot were especially sensitive, as well as when it came from the sides and higher up. The executioner worked steadily, apparently he liked his work, since a satisfied and extremely nasty grin never left his face.
  Gradually the pain began to subside, and Stalenida even found the strength to tease her torturer:
  - Your hands are weak! He who is not able to make a woman moan is not a man.
  The executioner began to hit faster and harder, but the bunch of nettles flew apart and torn leaves fell.
  - Oh, shaitan! I'll go and pick some more!
  The leader approached the girl and slapped her foot, which had turned green from the nettle juice:
  - Dzhigit! Dzhigit-baba! Usually, with this punishment, the chicks cry, but you didn't even groan! Let Bayran put one more bunch of nettles on you and that's enough!
  Bayran, however, grabbed two farts at once, he pulled the tights higher and began to beat the shins and ankles of the unfortunate girl. Stalenida blushed, beads of sweat were running down her smooth, gentle face, it was hard to breathe, but she endured. She fought the pain courageously, because she did not want to bring joy to these unwashed, stinking Nogais. Although it cost monstrous, willpower efforts.
  The nettles were knocked down and Bayran shook his head like a horse, shaking off the sweat:
  - I did everything I could!
  The leader reassured his assistant:
  - I don't demand more! Let's all mount our horses and gallop to the village.
  I asked a couple of nukers:
  - And who will carry the yasyr?
  The Nogai ataman puffed out his chest and shouted:
  - Me! Of course me! I am the strongest and the bravest!
  He was really strong, Stalenida was convinced of this when she, a large girl, was thrown onto the horse's rump. The horse was very large, apparently one of the hybrids, fiery red in color. He smelled almost pleasantly compared to the leader. The girl almost threw up from the aroma of a never-washed, powerful male body. How wild the Nogais were then, and they also smeared themselves with ram fat. Such a concept as a Russian bathhouse is unknown to them. In general, in Rus', especially before the adoption of Christianity: great attention was paid to body hygiene, hardening, physical exercises. It was believed that good spirits do not like dirty people or those who are obese and lazy. In the East, body care was also valued, but the steppe dwellers adopted a lot from the pagan Mongols, who instilled in them that whoever washes away dirt, washes away their happiness, and the general cultural level was low. By the way, perhaps one of the reasons why under Catherine, who was mistakenly nicknamed the Great, there was such an unprecedentedly massive plague epidemic was the general degradation of the population, caused by reactionary serfdom...
  Fortunately, the steppe was flat, the horse was hardly shaking, and if you don't count the stench from the rider to whom the girl was nestling, it wasn't that bad. Stalenida asked in the voice of a martyr:
  - Maybe you can give me a horse and we can ride together!
  The leader laughed exaggeratedly loudly:
  - Yasyr, let him get a horse... This will never happen! Lie quietly until the whip passes over your back.
  The girl fearlessly declared:
  - You're just a coward! You're afraid of women!
  The ataman took out a dagger and touched the tip of it to the back of Stalenida"s head:
  - One more word and I will resign myself to the inevitable loss, but I will not allow a woman to take over me!
  Stalenida, feeling the tip scratch her skin, immediately wilted. After all, the life of a captive in this cruel world is worth nothing. Moreover, it seems that her too tall and muscular is not considered a written beauty. At one time, one Ukrainian woman became a great sultana, but miracles do not like repetitions. Here in the famous novel: "The Indomitable Angelica", a noble marquise got into the harem of Sultan Menkes or modern Morocco. There she was very lucky, the sultan flared up with passion and wanted to exalt her. The stupid marquise stabbed the ruler with a dagger ... Why, one wonders, was her life not dear ... And the man was young, handsome, clean, capable of giving pleasure to a body exhausted by abstinence. By the way, Angelica was even older than Ismail Bey, and could be proud of such a match.
  Here is this guy, very large compared to modern men, not completely devoid of attractiveness, but greased with mutton fat, he "stank" so much that...
  Stalenida tries to think about something pleasant, something that doesn't stink so much. They'll give her to a merchant, he'll take her to Istanbul. The Ottoman Empire is at the height of its power, only Spain has more territory, including its colonies, but this country is experiencing its magnificent and at the same time tragic decline.
  Why, by the way, is such a powerful empire, populated by a courageous people who managed to defeat and expel the Arabs, and conquer the vast lands of America, India, and the Philippines with small detachments, experiencing decline? In his time, Pizarro, with only two hundred soldiers, defeated the Inca Empire, an army that was one hundred and fifty times larger (!).
  Even Suvorov couldn't boast of this. And there's no need to talk about the overwhelming superiority of the Spaniards in armament. Muskets in those days were heavy, loaded from the muzzle, accuracy and range were not high, and the rate of fire was zero.
  The Indian bow hit much further, incomparably more often and faster than the clumsy Spanish musket. Well, and in hand-to-hand combat, the Indian is much more agile than the clumsy conquistador clad in armor. In addition, the Incas used curare poison in their arrows, and the slightest scratch was enough to knock down a warrior.
  The only merit of the musket, however, was its loudness. It beats so loudly that it blocks the ears and has a very strong moral effect on superstitious and backward Indians.
  And where is the vaunted spirit of the Redskins?
  A fresh, gracious breeze blew into the girl's face, a thunderstorm was approaching. All the better, maybe the stench would become weaker. Stalenida politely asked the leader of the Nogai bandits:
  - And won"t you tell me the batyr who now rules the Urus!
  The chieftain even screwed up his face in surprise:
  - Don't you know!?
  The girl was cunning:
  - And after I fell off the horse, all my memory was knocked out of me. I give a cross and don't remember what and how it happened...
  The chief bandit muttered condescendingly:
  - Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich, may the devil take his soul! And he has been ruling for a long time: twenty-five winters! And nothing can get him!
  Stalenida was surprised:
  - Wow! It could already be 1670. The time of Stenka Razin's rebellion. Well, I'm in trouble, though...
  The leader leaned over:
  - Stenka Razin?
  The girl nodded:
  - Stenka Razin. I hope you know the Cossack chieftain?
  The huge bandit muttered:
  - And who doesn't know him! The most dashing Cossack in Rus'. He fought in Persia, captured a huge duvan, beat khans and bais. He took the impregnable fortress of Yaik by deception, and passed the tsar's barrier in Astrakhan. And now he is the Supreme Ataman on the Don, the terror of commanders and heads. In a word, he is a shaitan!
  Stalenida asked:
  - What is Stenka doing now?
  The leader groaned:
  - There are all sorts of rumors! It seems he is going to Azov, and others say that they saw a Cossack horde heading towards Tsaritsyn. Cossacks are a daring people, they say that the Tsar himself called Stenka to serve, and he...
  Stalenida joked:
  - And you're probably jealous that he didn't invite you, the mustachioed one.
  The bandit chieftain growled:
  - Shut up! I shouldn't be chatting with a bastard.
  Stalenida fell silent, her heels and burnt feet continued to itch, and talking to a stinking boor was beneath her dignity. So she found herself in 1670. Before Peter came to power... Formally, the reign is considered to have begun in 1682, but this is purely symbolic, in fact... To hell with Peter! A cruel tyrant who grovels before the West does not arouse her sympathy in the slightest. Moreover, Peter introduced taverns and literally imposed the most harmful habit of smoking. And Stalenida could not stand tobacco. And what can be said about Stenka Razin? A complex and ambiguous personality. Like Stalin, about whom one cannot say for sure: a saint or a devil! In Soviet times, Razin was canonized, in reformist times, on the contrary, he was vilified and portrayed as a bandit. Stenka lived in a cruel time, when torture was a common concept, tens of thousands of people were executed without guilt, or their guilt was insignificant. And Tsar Alexei, did he not shed enough Russian blood? And he tortured people, ordering executioners to break ribs with red-hot pincers. There is historical evidence that this Tsar liked to be present at torture, especially if beautiful women were being tortured. As did Peter the Great, who personally took on the function of executioner. Even Ivan the Terrible never personally executed people, but only signed decrees.
  However, Ivan Vasilyevich sometimes showed leniency towards the common people, and at the dawn of his kingdom he often forgave noble traitors.
  The first warm drops fell, thunder struck. The Nogais bowed superstitiously, muttered something mournfully. It was difficult to make out, except for the phrase Allah Akbar.
  Stalenida, as a convinced atheist, did not like manifestations of religiosity. Indeed, why should she believe in the Bible or the Koran. What does the Holy Christian Scripture promise humanity? For the overwhelming majority of people, endless, horrific torment, incomparable even with the ovens of Auschwitz, and for the minority, eternal slavery. Without sex, without meat, without gambling, without computers and the Internet, and most likely without other benefits of progress. To praise God all the time, to serve him forever and ever, and to be an obedient sheep, under the iron rod of Christ. And who needs such an eternity, when you are about to be thrown into the lake of fire.
  The rain poured down harder, the streams of water pleasantly washed the blisters on my legs, the itching began to subside, and the stench weakened. If it was God who sent the rain, then thank him, but...
  Why does the Almighty, if He exists, really disfigure people like that? Especially women, who with age become scary, horrible, terrifyingly vile... But you must agree that a Father who would mock his offspring in this way would be called the last psychopath and pervert. In general, the principles of humanism state that no demands of justice can justify torture. Well, what sins, and even more so crimes, can the unfortunate old women who survived hunger, war, shock construction projects, slave labor have? And the old people too, how can you torture your child, who, through ignorance, completely involuntarily, was guilty of a mere trifle? Well, if during life! And then the most cruel tortures after death, when people will want to die, to get rid of unbearable suffering, but cannot!
  How can one imagine such a monstrous injustice? Well, what can one say? How does this fit in with the image of a loving Father?
  Various theologians and theologies have tried to combine the incompatible: the words of Christ - God is love and the harsh reality of life and the Holy Scripture. Even the teaching about eternal hellish torments contradicts the dogma of a loving and perfect ruler: so there is a clear disproportion of punishment. After all, in order to end up in Gehenna, you do not need to be a criminal, it is enough to simply not survive the birth from above! And birth from above is not a guarantee, so the Lord simply may not write in the book of life. Well, naturally, you must believe in Christ. And this means that a true Muslim, a pious Buddhist, a moral atheist are doomed to eternal torture. But for example, in many Islamic countries, especially in Saudi Arabia, missionary work is prohibited, sometimes even under threat of death! In Saudi Arabia, if you stop practicing Islam - the death penalty! Even in the CIS, for example, in Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan, there are bans on missionary activity. So sending to eternal torment those who did not even have a chance to hear the word of God is... Well, more than tyranny, and super-violence! And here God is more cruel than all the tyrants of planet Earth. For example, even the Gestapo tortured people in order to find out information... It was perhaps even a forced measure - aimed at their own survival.
  And what reason does God have to torture sinners endlessly? What danger can they pose to the Most High and Almighty? It's like torturing a baby - citing the fact that he sinned with his childish cry. And torturing a child and blaming him for his cries of pain? But this is exactly what the Bible teaches...
  Or does it not teach? In any case, we can observe how creation groans and writhes in agony ourselves, already specifically on Earth. We don't even need the Bible here...
  Another alternative might be atheism and natural selection as the super engine of evolution.
  Here, of course, one should not reason too straightforwardly. Universal evolution or even Hyperevolution is not simply the survival of the strongest or the fittest... After all, in this case, the simplest organism would most likely survive and highly organized animals would never have appeared. After all, even a simple molecule is much more stable than a complex one, and the most stable in nature is the hydrogen atom, although it can be converted into helium or something even more structural using the fusion process.
  No, Hyperevolution complicates nature, increases the level of order and organization. And how, why does this happen? Scientists do not have a single point of view. If physical laws predetermine the increase in the level of order, then why are our brothers in intelligence, and naturally elder brothers, not visible in the Universe? After all, it was quite natural, and even inevitable, the phenomenon of supernatural forces. As well as the development of Supercivilizations capable of becoming like Gods... One of the great, modern writers put forward a version that our human universe is only a tiny grain of sand, from that truly grandiose thing that Hypercivilizations that have existed for a quintillion years to the quintillionth degree create. Maybe even something like a shadow...
  True, in this case the question arises, why did the Hypermind create a system of things in which man, being a rational creature, suffers so much! Another question? It is clear that the Overmind, if you believe in God as a person, cannot be so cruel that it tortures its children endlessly, and then keeps the smaller part in check.
  True, there is a more convenient explanation here: people are given a chance, as a result of Hyperevolution, to develop themselves to Omnipotence and learn to resurrect the dead.
  In this case, firstly, no one will be tortured forever, secondly, everyone, even criminals, have a chance for resurrection, and then subsequent correction, which means that all of humanity will receive happiness. And most importantly, immortality will be active, very active, with all the benefits of progress, and such: which at the moment seem fantastic and completely unthinkable. And if so, then it is somehow easier to endure suffering during life and the main thing is the meaning of existence: serving humanity.
  Omnipotence cannot and should not be combined with egoism. To give a person Omnipotence leaving him with the soul of an egoist is the same as tying a hydrogen bomb detonator to a wolf's fang!
  So the difference between believing in the Bible or Hyperevolution is that the first is a choice between bad and very bad slavery, and the second is an opportunity to gain joyful and active immortality with the ability to self-develop.... After all, there is no limit to perfection for any individual. A kind of movement along the steps, to new achievements. And then who knows, getting into the world of hyper-ultra-entities, into something that cannot even be imagined in the insignificant human imagination. Oh, you! But in general, all this will become possible only if humanity survives and develops...
  The storm in the steppe is a little longer than in the usual habitat of Stalenida, but still not too long. The horses splash their hooves through huge puddles, and the Sun has already peeped out.
  The leader happily muttered:
  - It's not far to the village! I'll drink some kumiss for now.
  And he actually started to lap it up from the wineskin. Stalenida wanted to take a sip too, but she was disgusted to try it after the stinking mouth of such a bastard. The girl even found the strength to tease:
  - Horse milk, that's to keep you from kicking the bucket!
  The chieftain smacked his lips and replied:
  - Yes and no!
  The girl was surprised:
  -How?
  The leader of the bandits barked:
  - It gives me male strength!
  Stalenida laughed:
  - You obviously don't have enough of your own, so you started on the stallion. Have you tried something stronger and more appetizing?
  The chieftain grabbed the girl by the neck and painfully squeezed the muscles holding her head:
  - Just watch out - you'll get "kind". Well, mare, I can order you to be bathed naked in the fiery grass! And the blisters will go away in three days.
  Bayran noted:
  - The merchant will have left by then! We need to grease her feet with something!
  The leader frowned:
  - I won't stop you, idiot! When we get to the village, you'll get a hundred lashes! I didn't order you to be beaten above the heels!
  Bayran did not argue, but merely lowered his head in submission. The steppe dwellers are simple people, and if they need to experience pain, they accept the whip with the inevitability with which spring replaces winter.
  Stalenida barely restrained herself from punching her "master" in the groin. Firstly, from a prone position, with her hands tied in front, it is difficult to deliver a strong and accentuated blow to knock him out for sure, and secondly - she needs it! Well, so what if she is sold to a merchant. This is probably a harem and an opportunity for a career in bed. Stalenida loved sex, her strong, young body is very responsive to caresses, and shyness, like most of her peers, is unknown. After all, sex is pleasure, and strong and varied, unlike partners. She has no fidelity complexes to one, or the concept of taboos: the main thing is to experience more pleasure, and if possible, earn something. She read novels about eastern harems and understood that the life of a concubine is much easier than a slave on a plantation, or a commoner's wife.
  However, the southern warm climate is much more attractive than the moderate zone of Russia with its severe winters. But in the times of Stenka Razin, winters in Rus' were incomparably colder than today, and in the Moscow region there was snow in May. But of course, here in the Volga steppes it is much hotter. But imagine spending the winter in a peasant hut, where there are no glass windows, and the corners are covered with frost... Brrr! No, Turkey is better, where winter lasts for two months, and snow falls only in the mountains. Well, and in the south of Persia, on the coast of the Indian Ocean, it is a Klondike! There is no time for patriotism here!
  Stalenida turned slightly on her side, so as not to lie on her stomach, on the far from soft rump. And what if her beauty, instead of a harem, was sent to toil in the fields? Of course, quarries were unlikely - it was not for women, although there were exceptions here, but to become a workhorse? Then she would certainly run away and try to do something more intellectual, using her considerable knowledge, the beginning of the twenty-first century!
  The sun was already shining brightly and the stench from the rider's wet body became unbearable. Stalenida started coughing and even threw up a little (it's good that she hadn't had breakfast yet).
  The owner cursed:
  - What are you doing, you scumbag!
  The girl pleaded:
  - Allow me, sir, to dismount from my horse and walk, or better yet, give me another horse; here are two empty ones galloping.
  The leader scolded:
  - Put the yasyr on a horse! This will never happen! But if you make a face and disdain to gallop with me, the great batyr, then please take a walk at a run. Well, get off, bastard!
  Stalenida jumped off. Her legs were free, and her hands were tied to the rope so that the vile girl could be dragged. The owner angrily threatened:
  - Watch out, if you fall, we'll drag you on our stomachs!
  The girl asked hesitantly:
  - Just please don't rush me too much, I run well and I'll try not to delay you too much!
  The leader threatened with a whip:
  - You asked for it, now run! - And he spurred on his horse.
  In order not to fall, Stalenide had to run as fast as she could. The girls' bare feet splashed through the puddles, raising splashes, and the fresh May grass tickled her bare feet.
  The athletic, healthy girl tried to adjust her breathing so that she would have the maximum amount of strength. At first, the owner did not drive the horse too fast, just a trot. Stalenida ran, happy to have the opportunity to stretch her legs and finally get rid of the disgusting stench. She never thought that a man could smell so disgusting. I wonder how the nomads' wives look at this, or if they were also dirty and had long ago sniffed...
  The girl had no excess fat, perhaps she even had much less than the average female norm. A dry, strong body with ideal proportions and almost a basketball height. Stalenide liked to look at her naked body in the mirror, playing with her muscles. Now her athletic training was very useful to her, especially after the Nogais, obeying their master, galloped faster.
  Now the girl was racing, using all her strength and giving it her all.
  A person is capable of running for several hours at an average pace, and some phenomena continuously "chased" for up to two days, without stopping for a second. But when you rush in sprint mode, even Olympic champions do not last long.
  Stalenida was holding on by her will, her pride, her desire to demonstrate the Russian spirit to the Nogais. But the treacherous, cruel-hearted master did not even think of slowing down, he apparently really wanted the proud and arrogant golden-haired blonde to be dragged on a rope, belly down on the ground. Especially since the soft grass had been replaced by thickets of prickly "sorcerers" and other nastiness. And although the sorcerers are not cacti, the girls' legs, which were not hardened enough, and were also covered in blisters from nettles, still experienced terrible pain.
  True, this pain was still an incentive, forcing me to run faster.
  Stalenida felt as if her charming bare heels were being licked by tongues of flame. The run dragged on, and her body was straining, her muscles were cramping. It was getting dark before her eyes, and the girl was losing consciousness. It was as if she was falling into a bottomless abyss without a single ray of light.
  Stalenida was overcome with fear and she grabbed a thin thread with her fingers, wove a rope out of it, and began to climb up - closer to the light. A song began to sound in her head: composed by a separate part of the girl's brain on the go:
  I run along sharp, angry thorns,
  Terrible trials in fate!
  So I was dealt a fateful fate,
  You wear the chains of slavery on yourself!
  
  And recently I was so free,
  A cool Mercedes was at our disposal!
  I was proud of my noble blood,
  And now where has all the gloss disappeared!
  
  Barefoot on stones and deserts,
  And almost naked flesh is visible!
  Who is now a worthless slave,
  And how is that my fault?
  
  I had everything, I changed men,
  He who is rich is the best of friends!
  And now I'm stuck in the hell of time,
  I might even cry and kill myself!
  
  The whip scorched my naked back,
  Hey you girl, run faster!
  She wanted to pick up a nobleman,
  And only enemies laugh around!
  
  They beat the slave with a whip,
  You can't straighten up in the fields!
  Will I really become grey?
  Forever in torment, sorrow concealed in the soul!
  
  No, it was not for nothing that I was born in Russia,
  In the country where the spirit of fate is stronger!
  To devour a dream under the blue sky,
  Don't hope, you fierce bastard, you villain!
  
  The Motherland gives strength even in slavery,
  Never break the fatherland!
  I must come out even from the grave,
  The sword sparkles, the holy army advances!
  
  Now I am a warrior - into the abyss of chains,
  Brothers are near, I rush into battle like an eagle!
  My Rus' will be in glory forever,
  We will bravely defeat the hordes of demons!
  The words were clearly imprinted in Stalenida's head, she opened her breath for the umpteenth time and the girl even increased her speed.
  The Nogais slowed down a bit, it seemed that their horses were also a bit tired. It became easier, and the sun began to set. The girl thought in annoyance how she had sweated, it would have been better to take off her tracksuit and race naked. And as for men, she was not the one to be embarrassed in front of these savages. Only a stupid woman burdened with complexes would be embarrassed to strip naked in front of animals. Well, that was a good cross-country race, she had never run so much, at such a high pace.
  Here you can already see the watchtowers of the steppe village. Although the Nogais are nomads, they managed to build something, in particular a palisade, watchtowers. In front of the palisade is a stinking ditch. In general, the village is about the same as an average modern village. Not houses, but yurts, and herds of horses and sheep graze around, there are also cows.
  The shepherds are usually adult nukers, but with each one there is always a couple of boys: barefoot, ragged undershepherds with sticks in their hands. Seeing Stalenida running tied to a rope, the boys whistled and immediately received a slap on the back of the head from the elder.
  The village itself is quite dirty, crowded, noisy. The children are terribly ragged, often completely naked, screaming, the women are no better. This is classic poverty: like Indian or African slums. And most importantly, everyone is so dirty, with rare exceptions.
  It was extremely unpleasant for Stalenida to knead such mud mixed with waste with her bare, punctured and burnt feet. But no matter how hard she tried, she still stepped on the horse "cake". She began to shake her foot and stamp to knock off the feces. Well, how did she manage to do this, what a fool she is!
  A more or less decent little tower stood on a hill in the center of the village. At the entrance stood a couple of warriors in turbans and rather lush clothing. The leader croaked:
  - Hasn't the merchant Ali-Bey left yet?
  The warriors shouted:
  - No, batyr Abai!
  The main bandit pulled the rope:
  - Here's a present for him! He'll make a wonderful concubine!
  The warriors mooed like bulls:
  - Very good! What hair she has, brighter than gold!
  A woman in a burqa ran out to meet them, but judging by her voice and slender figure, she was still quite young:
  - You brought the yasyr Abai!
  The bully barked:
  - Very little! The damned Stenka is shaking the steppe. The merchants are afraid to go to Tsaritsyn. If only I...
  The girl approached Stalenida, she was a head shorter than the captive, and stroked her hair:
  - She has a very beautiful face and wonderful hair. Only she is too tall, and her shoulders are like a young man's. I don't know if the merchant will agree to pay a decent price for her. Although such...
  Abai barked:
  - It is not for you to discuss the price of the yasyr! Put it in order and prepare it for inspection!
  The girl bowed:
  - Yes sir!
  Stalenida was taken inside the tower. To her surprise, they found themselves in a room with a small marble-tiled pool where four more girls were sitting. They were naked to the waist, with slightly painted nipples, in trousers and shoes, and their faces were covered with a veil. Stalenida thought: how stupid, bare breasts and a covered face.
  The girls, with deft, habitual movements, removed the already rather dusty clothes from the captive and began to wash them with pre-heated water with various infusions.
  One of them exclaimed:
  -What a strong body she has! A real hero!
  The girl who brought Stalenida carefully washed her feet, wiping each wounded toe. His voice sounded like a sad song:
  - You've been punished!
  Stalenida nodded:
  - As you can see!
  The slave sighed heavily:
  - Fire grass is so painful! They don't often hit you on the heels with it so as not to damage the delicate skin! I see you are very strong, every vein on your legs and arms is visible! That's strange!
  Stalenida objected:
  - No! It's quite natural! In our country, a female warrior is more the rule than the exception.
  - Really! Does that really happen?
  Stalenida realized that she had gone too far. In Russia, there was only one female general in the entire army, a female warrior was not at all typical! So she fell silent, enjoying the gentle touches of beautiful and young girls on her body. Here Stalenida was washed and massaged. The blisters were even smeared with some kind of fragrant ointment and the itching almost completely disappeared.
  The girl was surprised:
  - Can the Nogais really heal so well?
  The slaves immediately explained:
  - But we are not Nogais! We are slaves of the merchant Ali Bey from the Sublime Porte, and we know the recipes for herbs that heal the skin of punished concubines faster.
  Stalenida nodded:
  - That's basically what I thought!
  A rough cry was heard:
  - The owner is waiting quickly!
  Several veils were thrown over Stalenida: covering her chest and shoulders, and her feet were put into pointed shoes embroidered with morocco and pearls. Her feet, which had not yet healed, felt a strong pain, especially since the shoes were much smaller than her feet.
  Stalenida was proud of her legs, but they were quite proportionate to her tall stature and were by no means Cinderella-like.
  - You don't have a bigger size!
  The slave girls lowered their heads; they seemed almost like children against her background:
  - Unfortunately no, these are the biggest ones! But you don't have to take them off, the blisters are much less noticeable that way.
  A fat man with an effeminate, very fat face poked her in the shoulder:
  - Move faster, slave!
  Stalenida replied:
  - If you weren't a eunuch already, I would have hit you somewhere!
  The eunuch muttered something, but did not beat her. What if the merchant liked this column and became his favorite? Then he would be in trouble.
  Stalenida entered the main hall, her silver-forged heels clicking. The merchant was lying on the sofa, belly up, smoking a hookah. Seeing the girl enter in a blanket, he grunted:
  - That's great! Well, come on, show me!
  The eunuch threw off one, then another, veil that was tearing off his face. Suddenly Stalenida felt embarrassed. She had never been ashamed of her body, but for some reason she felt disgusted. The merchant perked up and immediately stood up, smacking his tongue:
  - What magical hair she has! Allah has never created such beauty! Next, slave!
  Stalenida felt the eunuch's hands on her shoulders and chest, as if the caressing hand of a lover had slid the covers. Her breasts, slightly upturned, bright red like rose petals in paradise nipples, were of the perfect shape, covered with a golden-olive tan. (Stalenida always sunbathed without a bra). The merchant shook:
  - Wow! Wow! Rare melons, probably honey!
  Ali-Bey carefully touched the nipple, rubbed it. The breast almost immediately hardened. Stalenida felt shame and desire, although the bearded merchant with a belly, and barely reaching her shoulder did not arouse sympathy. The eunuch, without waiting, reminded the girl, bared her thighs and legs, leaving her in only terrifyingly tight shoes.
  The merchant ran his hand over the girl's hips, over her stomach, pressed harder on her ankle, and took a deep breath, the fire in her little eyes quickly went out:
  - Oh, Allah save us! This woman has the body of a heroic youth! Bend your arm.
  Stalenida eagerly squeezed, her large, sharp biceps aggressively protruding. The merchant felt it, checked his abs, muscular thighs. Then his playful hand slid into the girl's womb. Stalenida intercepted the overly free hand and mechanically squeezed it.
  The merchant cried out in pain and with difficulty pulled out his sweaty hand. He muttered:
  - This is a shaitan, not a woman! Her fingers are like pincers.
  The door swung open and Abai appeared at the threshold, grinning joyfully:
  - Well, how is the treasure?
  Ali Bey nodded in agreement:
  - Yes! I've never seen such a woman before!
  Abai smiled and came closer:
  - So how much will you pay for this harem star?
  The merchant answered hesitantly:
  - There is a shortage of strong slaves in the quarries of Batumi! I think this mare should be sent there, with her muscles and strength, that's where she belongs. I'll pay as for an adult, healthy male slave. Well, and we'll cut her hair and sell it for a wig, it's become fashionable in Istanbul now!
  Stalenid's legs wobbled: instead of the sultana's crown...
  . EPILOGUE
  Pavel-Lev finally came to terms with drinking and sleep. And so he went out on the promenade. His head was buzzing a little. He was not in the best mood. Yes, Morgan was defeated, but not taken prisoner. And this is really not the coolest victory. Although all the ships were sunk or captured. But the English will build new ones and threaten. So it will be necessary to capture Jamaica. Besides, Pavel Rybachenko is still only a marquis - not a duke. And this is annoying. Of course, one wants more.
  However, a duke in the Middle Ages is less happy and has fewer opportunities for entertainment than a schoolboy in the twenty-first century!
  Now that would be really cool. Oh, to be a duke in the twenty-fifth century. Then maybe he would have his own planet to rule.
  Pavel sang:
  The planet is spinning, the planet is spinning...
  One trifle! One trifle!
  What a great job he did... And the girls walk with him, and at the same time the beauties jump with their bare, chiseled legs. And they are so beautiful, slender, tanned. And the girls' muscles are so powerful, sculpted, they are simply classy warriors. And great beauties.
  Pavel-Lev sang:
  The sun melted the cold,
  The stream flows loudly...
  And they are already running through puddles,
  Barefoot girls!
  And the young Marquis-Commander just bursts out laughing. Which was really cool. You could say it was just super. And the girls, of course, will rock anyone!
  Pavel-Lev took it and sang again:
  There are women in our Russia,
  What are they driving, jokingly flying a plane!
  What is the most beautiful thing in the universe?
  That will kill all the enemies!
  
  They are born to win,
  Why glorify Rus' to the whole world!
  After all, our mighty grandfathers,
  They were going to collect everything for them at once!
  
  Giants stand at the machine,
  Their power is such that they destroy everyone!
  We are the children of the Fatherland, united -
  A line of soldiers is marching!
  
  Grief cannot break us,
  The evil fire attacked without power!
  Where the torch used to burn...
  The spotlight is now on fire!
  
  In our country, everything is a torch for the light,
  Cars, roads, bridges!
  And victories are sung in songs -
  We are the falcons of light - eagles!
  
  Let us glorify our Fatherland boldly,
  We will lead you to the steep peaks!
  We are like pioneers in space -
  And we'll wring the necks of the fascists!
  
  Let's catch up with everyone from Mars,
  Let's open the way to Centauri!
  There will be those of us who fear the predator,
  And who is kind and honest to love!
  
  Russia is the sweetest country of all,
  There is something to be proud of in her, believe me!
  No need to talk nonsense...
  Be human, don't be a beast!
  
  We will reach the border of the universe,
  We will build a granite fortress there!
  And whoever lost repentance,
  Whoever attacks the Fatherland will be beaten!
  
  What's next - there's little imagination,
  But believe me, we will resurrect the dead!
  We will tear out the sting of death with one jerk,
  To the glory of immortal Rus'!
  This is how Captain-Lion sang. This is really extremely cool and awesome. These are really aggressive songs. Which will show the level of power is simply super and hyper.
  Natasha giggled and sang:
  Captain, captain, smile,
  After all, a smile is the flag of a ship...
  Captain, captain, pull yourself together,
  Only the brave conquer the seas!
  Pavel Ivanovich noted, yawning demonstratively:
  - I'm not a captain, I'm a commander!
  Natasha laughed and answered with a smile:
  - We will fight boldly for France! Ugh, I can't seem to rhyme!
  Fighter girl Aurora noted:
  - It's hard to rhyme all the time. There are some problems here!
  The fighter girl Anfisa squeaked:
  Even though we can"t solve all the problems,
  But we will buy MMM tickets!
  Margarita giggled and replied:
  - All problems will be solved! And my husband can rhyme much better than Pushkin!
  Pavel-Lev noted:
  There was a bald dragon president,
  He really loved beer...
  And his voice is false,
  We have a lot of power to hit!
  And the captain laughed. Accompanied by the girls, he entered the tavern. And so they ordered a leg of beef, rum diluted with water, and turkey.
  After which they began to eat it. Well, and they brought peeled bananas. And they were delicious. And the girls with the young man began to eat. Which looked beautiful.
  Natasha noted with a smile:
  - We should still take over Jamaica. They don't have much territory under their control.
  Capital-Lev nodded and added:
  - And Miami should be captured! To prevent the English from gaining a foothold there. They are hanging over the Spanish. And they are climbing onto the continent to the north.
  Aurora noted:
  - And we will act more energetically in Canada. True, it is cold there, and it is not so pleasant to run barefoot!
  Margarita giggled and sang:
  Along the snowy path,
  Barefoot girls legs...
  I'm tired of the desert heat,
  I want there to be a blizzard!
  And Satan will sing for us!
  Maria objected:
  - Not Satan, but the Mother of God!
  And she just bursts out laughing. What a girl, and so beautiful.
  One of the pirates, being very drunk, rushed towards them. And he got hit in the chin by a bare girl's heel. And his jaw was broken.
  And he fell and became silent.
  Natasha chirped:
  - Blow, blow, blow, blow again,
  What a killer gift this will be!
  And the girl just started laughing... And so the girls started dancing and doing wild jumps.
  Pavel-Lev took it and began to sing:
  We are capable of breaking with the devil's power,
  And it can kill even the coolest...
  And somewhere a fierce tank will go on the attack,
  There is no need to make stupid concessions here!
  Natasha giggled and noted:
  - It doesn't sound right! It doesn't sound right! It's cold in your pants!
  And the laughter... How they love to laugh.
  Well, another pirate came at him. And Margarita kicked him in the groin. He flew up and went quiet. And even vomited blood.
  Aurora took and began to sing:
  Bald bastard,
  Overgrown with stubble...
  Squeezes pimples on wrinkled skin,
  This is a bear - she is a beast,
  Come on, punch him in the face!
  Maria giggled and punched another insolent pirate in the temple. And she roared with fury:
  Pirates don't need science,
  And it's clear why...
  We have both legs and arms,
  There is no point in thinking stupid!
  Captain Lion growled and roared:
  - There will be new centuries, there will be a change of generations. But no one will ever forget the name Lenin!
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Новые книги авторов СИ, вышедшие из печати:
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