110

I see a dream. I often see dreams – the consciousness gets so exhausted during the day that relief is absolutely necessary, it's what the dreams are for, to save us from overload of impressions, to finish what was left unsaid.

I don't remember my dreams usually, just messy remains whirl in my head, not completely understood. But now the dream is bright and imprints into consciousness, maybe because I sleep in virtuality.

I'm standing on the stage, the heavy curtains' cloth is behind me. There's a man with a guitar on the stage, he's motionless as if chained by invisible chains. He sings but the words don't reach me. It's the deep between us, the Deep that became alive, that turned into transparent wall. I strain myself trying to walk to him, to break the wall and to hear the words but the deep is heavy and resilient like a rubber slab. It throws me back, I fall on my knees and freeze, unable to move. The singer turns his head and looks at me. It seems that he starts to sing louder, but I can't hear him anyway. I'm chained by the deep, I'm swaddled, helpless.

The singer nods and turns away, I suddenly understand that this is Unfortunate from "Labyrinth", the one I have to save… to save instead of standing on my knees under invisible rubber heaviness.

But I have no strength anyway.

From the opposite side of the stage, from behind the curtains another man appears. He's dressed in camouflage overalls and has a shotgun in his hands, he looks at me, smirks and raises his weapon. This is Alex.

I shout, – NOOOO! – but the sound is bogged in the deep.

Alex shoots, the bullet breaks the guitar's neck, the strings scream curling up in elastic rings, the silence barrier breaks. I jump up, the heaviness disappeared. The singer looks at the dead guitar with surprise. Alex pulls the lock of his gun, I jump, knocking the singer down and blocking him by my body.

– I told that I'll make you, – says Alex.

He shoots, the bullet hits my chest, tears my heart into pieces, goes through and stabs the singer. His body shivers and becomes dead.

This means – it's over. This means – I was too late.

I rise and go to Alex. My heart doesn't beat anymore, but I don't care. I'm the diver, the only enemy of the deep, the guard between the worlds, the one who had to be here in time. I got used to live without heart, it's not that simple to kill me.

The audience roars behind my back, whistles and stamps their feet.

– I've made you, – says Alex and lowers the shotgun.

Vika comes out from behind his back, outstretches her hand – there's greasy looking gray ash in it.

– I found that star, – she whispers and opens her hand.

The ash streams down to the floor circling in the air.

And then I die.

111

Awaken, I swallow the air greedily. The sun have risen already, the air is intoxicating fresh.

Vika sleeps, pressed against my shoulder, shrunk of the chill.

Very nice dream I've had indeed…

Like in that anecdote about Freud… "You know my dear daughter, sometimes there are JUST dreams…"

They say that it's a bad sign to sleep in virtuality.

– Vika… – I touch her shoulder, she shivers but doesn't wake up. I rise and cover her with the comforter. The lantern in the grass had went out. I go to the house.

It is small, just one luxury bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen. I take cream, cheese and pate from the fridge, make coffee on the small stove, several sandwiches, put all that on the small tray and return back to Vika.

She's still sleeping.

Abyss-abyss, I'm not yours…

Well, not bad of a rest: 3 pm. I visited the bathroom, got myself into order, even brushed my teeth holding the helmet under arm, returned into the room, took a can of soda, yogurt and a piece of sausage from the fridge. A stupid combination but who cares what I eat in reality? The main thing is just to stuff the stomach.

The Vika on the computer monitor is dozing too. I felt the slight shame before the program whom I'm being unfaithful to with the human.

deep Enter.

I caress 'almost alive' Vika's hair and whisper, – Time to wake up…

She opens her eyes, looks at me in puzzlement, then smiles.

– Thanks.

– For what?

– Well… I had such a great rest. It doesn't happen often.

– I brought the breakfast.

– This is MY duty, – sighs Vika with imposed resentment, – Thank you, Leonid.

We drink coffee and eat sandwiches. Somewhere far in the forest the bird's voice rings.

– I had a bad dream, – informs Vika.

– About the stage? – I ask and my heart stops as if pierced by the bullet again.

– No, it was like I found the fallen star but it have already burnt. Utterly.

The heart shivers again, it echoes in the temples, hollowly and dully.

It's a bad sign to sleep in virtuality.

What links were between us, fallen asleep in the deep? Unheard whispers and sleepy grimaces, strained muscles and shaking eyelashes – everything was melted into electronic impulses and was transmitted through the deep.

To touch the one who was by my side.

Sleeping, just as me.

To slip into her dream.

It's a bad sign – to sleep in the deep.

– We'll look for it tomorrow, – I say. Vika looks at me ironically and asks:

– You're what, a millionaire's nephew?

I shrug.

– I want to see you again. Just to see you.

She hesitates before asking:

– Tell me… Don't I attract you?

– Sexually?

Vika nods.

– You do.

– Then… why?

– This shouldn't be so easy, – I also can't decide to finish at once, – And it should not be for sale.

– Lenia, you go crazy.

– Maybe.

– You even don't know who I am. This, – she raises her hands to her face, – is a mask. A make-up. I can be whoever.

I'm silent, you're surely right, I don't argue.

– I can be old in reality, – says Vika without mercy. – Or terribly ugly. Or perverted male. Do you understand?

I understand. It's doubtful about the male though…

– Don't be stupid, Lenia, don't fall in love with the mirage.

– I just want to see you again.

She decides finally.

– Come to "Amusements" and ask for Vika. Without 'order'. Okay?

– Won't Madam be angry?

– No.

– Okay, – I touch her hand. – Deal.

We finish coffee and sandwiches, Vika looks at me but says nothing.

Let her.

I rejoice inside. Inside I'm concentrated and business-like.

I'm a 20-year old again, flirting with the whimsical coeval. The only difference is, the thought about the bed doesn't thrill me as much as then.

Together we leave the garden, exchanging meaningless phrases. The door stands right on the grass, reminding of the scene from some old kid's movie. Vika opens it and enters the brothel's corridor, I follow.

It's quiet and sad in there.

The customers never see each other. Come here everyone and find your cure..

– My time is over, – says Vika, – my timer will come up now.

I nod. It's pretty understandable, the timer is a holy thing.

– Thank you.

– What for?

– For the fallen star.

Looks like she wants to say something, but obviously her time was really up.

Vika dissolves in the air.

I whisper, – Bye… – and descend the stairs. There is another guard in the hall now, I wink to him and pad to the door, not waiting for the answer.

– Gunslinger!

I turn around.

Madam stands on the upper landing, leaning on the railing heavily.

– I think you shouldn't have come here, young man.

-Maybe, – I agree, – But it so happened.

Madam sighs and turns away. Let her.

I don't need Deep-Transit today, I still remember the route of yesterday's flight, and the exit from "Labyrinth" and the entrance are just five minutes apart.. I walk along ever-evening Deeptown's streets, looking around, expecting the ambush.