Наталья Соколова – LIMBO (страница 19)

While she calmly studied the victims' personal files, I was sweating profusely. It seemed like an eternity had passed, and Mr. Doe would burst in at any moment, yet instead of making a run for it, we were wasting time.

According to the profiles, three girls were first-year students in group "M," one was a second-year in group "S," and another was a fourth-year – also in "S". They worked with different types of orgone. Two were straight-A students, the rest had good grades. One, as it turned out, didn't live in the dorm but rented an apartment nearby, and another was a native of St. Petersburg. Eye color, hair color, height, weight – everything was different. Except that in the field labeled "Kundalini Activation", they all had a dash, but when I pointed this out to Liz, she just waved it off:

"We already know that."

"You know, but I don't. What's this Kundalini?"

"They're virgins."

I was outraged:

"Why does Mr. Doe need this information?! That's personal! And to put such things in a dossier for everyone to see!.. it's… it's…"

"It's important for paired practices in upper years. Don't worry about it. Let's look at their attendance instead…"

"What paired practices?!" I persisted.

"Uh-oh…" Liz drawled. "Now here's something interesting!"

Leaning in, I stared at the monitor. The girls were diligent students, only missing classes for valid reasons and very rarely, and additionally – in the evenings they attended extra clubs. Some studied calligraphy, some archaeology, some foreign languages. But besides this, all five – I felt my hands go cold – had signed up for Mr. Black's piano club in February!

"Girls, heads up!" Jake whispered loudly, bursting into the rector's office. "The philosopher is coming this way!"

Liz frowned at first but then relaxed:

"Chill, he's blind."

"Yeah, blind, my ass!" Gill casually touched his chest. "Come on, hurry up!"

Liz quickly photographed the open files with her phone. Putting the laptop back to sleep, we tumbled out into the reception area, and at that very moment a white cane poked through the half-open door. As if on cue, all three of us merged with the walls and held our breath.

"Susan, I'd like to talk to Mr. Doe…" the blind professor squinted, peering into the emptiness in front of him, then exclaimed. "Ah, it's you, kids! Also waiting?.. So Susan has gone to lunch, it seems. And forgot to air the room out, as usual. That won't do…"

The cane tapped on the tiles again. The philosopher approached the panoramic window and, clicking the latches, flung open the golden frame wide. The wind that burst into the room ruffled the papers on the desk.

Is he going to do it again?! The blinding sunlight flooded his slim figure in a white suit, and it melted like a piece of sugar in hot milk. But no, this time he didn't fall, didn't jump, and didn't even fly up like a winged angel. Turning his back to the window, he took a step out of the bright spot of light and clicked his tongue:

"Kids, better wait in the hallway while it airs out here, or you might catch a cold…"

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