IN THE VORTEX OF TIMES

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The first book of the project is finished. Thank you for your comments and improvements

Project "Vector" (From the series "Toy soldiers")

Book One On the cutting edge of history.

I never wanted to replay history. But ... I was always interested in the question: what would have happened if there had been ... The book contains the names and surnames of people who really existed, but! none of the characters match their real-life counterparts. Think of them as lettering decorations in the old theater of William Shakespeare, Esq.

November 1940 was rich in rain. It rained especially heavily on the eve of winter. The rain grew stronger, stopped, and the sky remained the same leaden, and even later another portion of cold water poured onto the ground. A man in a military uniform, standing on the platform of the railway station in ancient Kiev, shivered. He did not like this chilly weather. And even less he liked to go somewhere in such weather. His gaze slid over the train. Everything seemed to be in order. The locomotive is about to start moving slowly. Several drops of rain penetrated disgustingly behind the collar, slipping down his neck ... Slightly wincing, the man with a sharp movement moved into the car, and already there, in the vestibule, he felt ill for a moment. At first he grabbed his heart and even sat down a little, as if trying to bend down from the pain, let it pass like a howling splinter over his head ... No, he straightened up, staggered, grabbed his head. So, staggering, I got to my compartment, where I fell on a shelf and fell silent ...

The lift went up slowly and almost silently. I knew this road like the back of my hand. Elevator to the third floor. Dark armored door (all doors in this building are armored). A small vestibule, a transition, and another elevator, just as quiet with an even smoother ride. But this elevator leads down fifteen floors, eleven of which are underground. Before getting into the elevator shaft, I managed to look at the sky through the window: the sky was lead-gray, in places black thunderclouds with bloody burns were gathering. The sun went down the horizon, creating the illusion of scarlet lining on the evening clouds. But it was all THERE, behind the glass, WHERE I am going, everything should be different. My name is Andrey Tolokonnikov. I'm 36 years old. And I'm still alive. Alive, no matter what. There is such a hilarious diagnosis of cerebral palsy. It so happened that my parents did not send me to an orphanage, did not abandon me, but, on the contrary, did their best to give me the opportunity to exist in this cruel world, a world not adapted for disabled people like me. Unfortunately, several operations did not allow me to walk, and I could only move with the help of a wheelchair, yeah, a wheelchair on wheels. Here are just mine - with a motor. It turned out a little better with the hands. I own one hand (left) very well. Speech has become much better, I just tightened some letters and delayed the end of sentences a little. And my brains were all right. What for? It seems to me that it would be better if I was a moron, unconscious of himself, with his simple perception of the world. In this regard, I was very unlucky. I don't like to talk about myself as a prisoner, but that's how I viewed myself. I learned to use a computer using my one and a half hands. And yet, in my thirty-odd conscious years, I managed to expand the possibilities of my memory, to photographic. It helped a lot in writing articles - there was no need to look for a long reference material. I memorized a page of text after 20 seconds of reading "diagonally", after which I could reproduce it to each character. How it all fit into my head, I have no idea. A year ago, my parents passed away. They walked to my hospital at the crosswalk at the green light of the traffic light. I watched from the window as the blinding white Lexus, racing through the city at a breakneck speed, knocked them down and carried away. Mom died on the spot, my father spent two more days in intensive care. I was discharged from the hospital after 10 days. The investigator said that the car was stolen at night, on the eve of the accident, and who was driving it is unknown. Parents are orphanages who got on their feet due to the fact that they were born in the USSR. But I had no one else. The guardianship of the state authorities was shining on me. For me, this meant one thing - rapid extinction. My apartment was somehow adapted for the existence of a disabled person, but the disabled home, which I will be assigned to, after the sale of the apartment, will also be given an additional allowance ... isn't it funny? Absolutely. Today, the third of September, they should come for me. And they arrived. Absolutely taciturn two young men, capable of pulling wardrobes, however, it seemed to me that this was not their main task. My carcass was loaded into a minibus, after a half-hour journey, I ended up here, at the Center. At the center of everything. More precisely, in the center of time. I have never been a fan of the whirlwind of times and other literary hits, but here I had to face it myself ... It all started with this complete gentleman with a beard and a gray mane of hair, which was too much for Kotovsky and too little for Einstein. He wore old-fashioned glasses with massive frames, thick glasses made his eyes look like little slits, and his broad-cheeked face did not fit at all with a massive nose, which betrayed the secret of existence. - Andrey Vyacheslavovich, we are glad to welcome you to our center. - The gentleman smelled of artificial cordiality and false friendliness. - We, Nikolaai ... Second. - I joked unsuccessfully, to which the gentleman who greeted me burst out laughing. He laughed sincerely, which surprised me. - Well, every word, to the point! Well, young man, I now want to explain why you are here and not in a nursing home. I think YOU will find it interesting. - the cheerful gentleman highlighted the word "you" in intonation. “We - you, us - you, interesting games are played here,” I decided to myself. - And where are WE looking for? - to play, so to play. “Not all at once, young man, not all at once. - this gentleman, it seems, did not notice my attempt to play, he continued, as if nothing had happened: - We want to offer you a job. Do not wonder. This is your second chance ... - I will be healthy and can walk when I have to get up from the chair? - This time I was extremely ironic. - To some extent, to some extent ... How lucky you are. - I didn’t understand! - You have to complete the task. Our price is your opportunity to live a fulfilling life. From you only the completion of the task, and nothing more. - Straaannoe proposal for decepeshnikaaa. You didn't manage to seize the initiative in the conversation. - You see, if I tell you what the task is, then I will have to tell you about the center, and this is possible only when you agree and sign the appropriate pieces of paper, you know left hand? I nodded in response. - That's okay. That's good. I repeat once again: on one side of the scale, your miserable existence in a disabled home, five, ten, fifty years before death in a wheelchair, you know, some disabled people live a very long time. On the other side of the scale - five, ten, even fifty years of NORMAL life. After completing the assignment, you will have new documents, a completely new life. - And he, this very gentleman who did not give his name, did not lie. And how he gestured! He skillfully mastered the techniques of non-verbal pressure on the interlocutor, so, he talks about the scales, depicting with his hands a sort of Themis with a beard and a belly, and it turns out that he is not comical, not at all. Feeling that I began to hesitate with the answer, he decisively rushed to finish me off. - And you will receive one bonus even before you begin to carry out your task. -? - Look at these photos. This is the same person who knocked your parents down. Local crime boss. It was his car that was stolen, although he brought the statement to the police AFTER the murder. You know, on the periphery, a lot is tied into a very contradictory knot. So, WE will punish him. Even before you start the task. At the preparatory stage. I didn’t ask about the essence of the preparatory stage, my question completely involuntarily fell out: “Are you so powerful?” “So much. No, it won't be easy. It's not like waving a finger or pulling the trigger of a pistol ... But this is quite within our reach. - I will work naaaaa gosudaaarstvooo? - WE are a private office, but we work under the supervision of serious government agencies. If you agree, nod, you will soon be able to speak without problems.

In the late sixties, a project arose, headed by the little-known physicist Sergei Mitrofanovich Pogoreltsev. Someone considered him a genius, someone crazy. And he was just a bold experimenter and an inventive rogue, who did not recognize any obstacles or authorities. They don't like them. Competitors destroy such people. They are not allowed to defend their dissertations, simply because they do not understand what is written there. In the sixties, Pogoreltsev developed some aspects of field theory, but these aspects prompted him to make assumptions that made a couple of thousand years ago a certain Archimedes drive naked through the streets. As I said, the physicist Pogoreltsev was still a rogue, he had extensive acquaintances with the right people in the most needed fields. He found that little man who could whisper a few words to Himself. The clouds were just gathering over this, but he managed to whisper a few words. I myself asked him not to fool his head and explain everything in simple human words, learned that it was about creating a new weapon based on the latest achievements of Soviet physics, learned that research needed very little money and nodded his head in agreement. Like, you suggested that you do it. Initiative is punishable. This is how the Vector project appeared. Pogoreltsev was lucky. In the chaos of the transfer of power from one person to another, when Ilyich II appeared on the horizon of History, the man who was responsible for the project and recommended it to Himself remained not only in power, but also with money. Without his active participation, there would have been no coup d'etat, and the existence of the Vector project would have been impossible. A modest instructor of the Central Committee of the CPSU with very great capabilities managed to classify and even lose the materials on the project so that a small laboratory of theoretical physics remained on the surface with practically no funding, which developed a general field theory from the advanced Soviet scientific views. In the mess of the 90s, when the party financiers were shooting and thrown out of the windows, the curator survived. Obituary? A smart person will be able to fake his death. It's nice to see your funeral from the outside. The curator didn't like his funeral. Apart from a few relatives, none of his colleagues and acquaintances came to see him on his last journey. But in his hands were thin rivulets of financial flows that no one knew about. And something broke off in Pogoreltsev's laboratory. The breakthrough happened in 2002. No, not on February 20, at 20 02 minutes, I will not lie. But by the new, 2003, the theoretical basis of the Breakthrough was ready. And then the QUESTION arose: “What to do with this?” When, under pressure from the West, the USSR abandoned the revolutionary development of scientific and technological progress, it turned out that Dr. Pogoreltsev's crazy idea became the only unfrozen and unknown project that opened up serious prospects. But opening up prospects is a matter of funding. And the Curator himself could not decide on this, even he, having in his hands the financial flows slightly more than the budget of a small state like Moldova, understood that he could not pull out the Project alone. This is how the Triumvirate was born. A former instructor of the Central Committee of the CPSU, a retired KGB officer (although they claim that there are no “exes” in this Office) and an army general who was still responsible for the development of certain types of weapons. Their main task, which drew out forces and means, was to remove from power a clique of snickering oligarchs closely connected with the family of the First Russian President. But for the Project, they ventured to open funding. In 2014, Sergei Mitrofanovich Pogoreltsev died. In 2018, the laboratory gave the first positive results. At the same time, two major events took place: The project received the approval of Himself, and also began recruiting into the "Spearhead" division, to which you belong. You are the second set of the unit. Questions? The sailors have no questions! Very good! Now you have exactly 45 minutes of free time. We were stuffed with such lectures during training. Story. Temporistics (the science of time). Peacemaking. Story. Story. Story. Training in the use of weapons of different eras, the basics of tactics, strategy, logistics, the basics of applied chemistry and medicine. For everything about everything - exactly one year. Then there was a boring and difficult exam, according to the results of which five of us remained in the Project. Four guys and one girl. Aaaa ... you ask, how could a disabled person in a wheelchair, and even with cerebral palsy, be taught the use of weapons, and even hand-to-hand combat techniques? Hypnosuggestational trainer. It was only after virtual workouts that I returned to the room squeezed like a lemon, and if not for Artem, my constant guardian angel, who knows, I would not have slept half the nights in my wheelchair. Little pleasant, you can believe me. Usually the training schedule is two lectures in the morning, a break for food and other pleasures, work with a psychologist. We had wonderful brain-eaters! After two hours of brainwashing, food and drink again. I don't know why, but our brain-eaters arranged forced diuresis for us as an integral part of their work, and then 2 more trainings on simulators. Once a week, practical tests according to the program listened to, solving problems and standard practical situations. The tasks were just for knowledge of mathematics, and for logic, and for the ability to find a solution using reference books. The intensity of the training was off the charts. We had half a day off a week! Just do not think that we rested at night! Would you like to spend two hours of learning foreign languages ​​in deep sleep? And the first half of that same weekend was devoted to practice with native speakers (English, German, French, Chinese or Japanese). Moreover, the carriers were convinced that they were engaged in charity work with disabled people, who were supported by a solid charitable foundation. the only thing that I could not understand was how it all fit in my poor little head! But it fit! Such things!