Татьяна Викентьева – "STOLEN IMMORTALITY" (страница 1)
TATYANA VIKENTYEVA, Татьяна Викентьева
"STOLEN IMMORTALITY"
TATYANA VIKENTYEVA
"STOLEN IMMORTALITY"
( novel)
BOOK ONE.
Alexander Zavidov walked along the sidewalk of one of the capital's streets. Five minutes ago, he had gotten out of a luxury Mercedes and ordered his chauffeur to go to the office without him. He wanted to take a walk, breathe some fresh air, and look at people... Alexander walked with a leisurely, measured stride. He walked and thought about his current life. Could he ever have dreamed of the life he was leading now? No, he couldn't! Could he ever have imagined that the whole world would lie at his feet? No, he couldn't! .. But it had happened! ... Lord! How wonderful it had all worked out! .. His soul was not simply joyful! Alexander felt delight and pleasure incomparable to anything! Had he ever in his life been as boundlessly happy as he was now? No! No! And again no! There had been moments of brief happiness in his life. But he had never been as happy as he was now! After all, now he was basking in happiness! He enjoyed and reveled in it every day, every hour, every minute! And at the same time, he was perfectly aware that his current happiness was eternal! Just as he himself was now eternal!
People were walking towards him—ordinary people. With ordinary faces. With ordinary problems in life. Alexander looked down on them, with a contemptuous smirk. And he thought that all these people were mortal and would die someday. They considered death a natural phenomenon and therefore resigned themselves to it. Yes, resigned themselves to it. After all, they didn't know that one could live forever on Earth. And he,
Alexander knows this. Moreover, he doesn't just know... He put this knowledge into practice, making himself immortal. Now he will live forever. And immortality will make him master of the universe. Humanity will bow before him, honor him, and live by his law! And he, at his own discretion and will, will grant people the priceless treasure he possesses—eternal life! By "grant," Alexander meant "sell." In his view, only the rich and powerful could attain the right to eternal life, and he would thus become their ruler.
Alexander was so consumed by thoughts of his immortality and superiority over others that he didn't notice a group of ragged, dirty children walking towards him. Only when the children drew level with him and began asking for money did he
Alexander came to his senses, came to his senses, and began to vigorously wave off the little ragamuffins. But it was no use. The children swarmed around him from all sides and
They shouted loudly: "Uncle! Give me money for bread! We're hungry! Give me money, Uncle! Give me! Give me! Give me!" Their voices were unpleasant to Alexander. And their dirty hands, which were reaching for him, and the disgusting smell emanating from their bodies, filled the man with disgust. To quickly get rid of these disgusting children, he decided to give them money. He took his wallet from his pocket, opened it, and pulled out five hundred dollar bills (there were no bills of lesser value in his wallet). Having handed over the money, Alexander quickly began to walk away from the little tramps. But for a long time he heard their screams behind him. The children could not divide the money, they were swearing among themselves, quarreling...
These abandoned children reminded Alexander of his past. A past he didn't want to remember. But one that stubbornly refused to be forgotten. And it kept coming back. Reminded him with excruciating pain, tearing at his soul and darkening the joy of immortality.
Alexander's mind was transported back to his distant childhood. And he clearly saw himself—five-year-old Sasha Zavidov, a poorly dressed village boy, and next to him—his mother, a thin, gray-eyed woman, exhausted by backbreaking, unwomanly labor. They were walking along the sidewalk of one of the capital's streets. Just as he was now walking. It had been a long, long time ago. Thirty-five years had passed since then. But Alexander remembered everything, down to the last detail. And now he found himself back on that distant day...
"Sasha! Come faster! Do you hear me, son? Hurry up! Otherwise we'll miss the train!" Antonina Yegorovna said to her son, tugging at his hand.
"Mom! But you promised to buy me a car!" Sasha shouted, out of breath from walking so fast.
"I'll buy it! I'll buy it! We'll go to the Detsky Mir store now and buy it! Just hurry up, son! Or we'll miss the train!" the mother replied as she ran, tugging hard on Sasha's arm again.
People walking toward them looked in surprise at Antonina Yegorovna and her five-year-old son. And indeed, there was reason to be surprised! A thin, emaciated, poorly dressed woman, clearly a provincial, carried a heavy, old-fashioned suitcase in one hand and held her son's hand in the other, tugging him along. The couple looked quite incongruous on a city street, especially compared to the other pedestrians, who were well-dressed and respectable. But Antonina Yegorovna, ignoring the sidelong glances of passersby, continued to tug her son's hand. The boy, unaccustomed to walking so quickly, was out of breath and snoring. After a few minutes, he stopped dead in his tracks.
"Mom! I'm tired. Let's rest," Sasha said.
"What's wrong, son? We'll miss the train! Come on! It's almost there! You can see Detsky Mir!" Antonina Yegorovna pointed at the multi-story store standing a hundred meters away and tugged Sasha's hand again. "Come on, son! We'll buy you a car there!"
The boy, seeing the store, hurried off again with his mother. His desire to get the promised toy was stronger than his fatigue.
When Antonina Yegorovna and her son approached the store, it was already sixteen o'clock. Looking at her watch, the mother said to Sasha:
- Well, son. It's already four o'clock in the afternoon. Our train leaves Moscow in fifty minutes. Come to the store quickly. We'll buy you a car and then we'll go to the station.
The boy obediently entered the store. Antonina Yegorovna followed him. Then mother and son went up to the second floor, where the toy department was. Sasha was so amazed that he gasped in amazement! Never had he seen so many different toys! The boy's eyes widened!
-Mom! Mom!- he shouted.- Look how many toys there are here! And how new and beautiful they are!
At that moment, a well-groomed saleswoman in high heels, a beautifully manicured hairdo, and beautifully manicured hands approached Antonina Yegorovna and Sasha. Looking the mother and son up and down, she asked sharply:
-What do you want?
Antonina Yegorovna took Sasha's hand and quietly answered:
-My son and I would like to buy a car.
"A car?" the saleswoman asked again. "Are you sure about that? Our toys are very expensive!" and again she looked the provincial girl and her child up and down.
"I think I have enough money for a car for my son. I promised to buy him one a long time ago," Antonina Yegorovna said timidly.
"Well, then, come with me. I'll show you the section where the cars are." Having said this curtly and casually, the saleswoman turned and walked deeper into the sales area. The mother and son followed her.
A minute later, they were at the right place. And the boy saw a huge variety of cars! There were cars, trucks, and sports cars. All of them were miniature versions of real automobiles and looked very impressive. And for Sasha, they were simply a miracle! After all, he had never seen such toys in his village.
"Well, there you go. Take your pick," said the saleswoman. "We have manual cars, battery-powered cars, and remote-controlled cars..."
“We’d like a simple one,” Antonina Yegorovna interrupted her.
“What do you mean, simple?” the saleswoman asked, puzzled.
“Cheaper,” Antonina Yegorovna clarified.
“You could have just said so!” the saleswoman muttered irritably and pointed to the far shelf where the smallest cars stood. “These are the cheapest ones.”
"Sasha! Son! Look at these little cars," Antonina Yegorovna suggested to her son, also pointing to the little cars.
"No, Mom! I've already chosen. Look! This car," Sasha said, pointing to the large Mercedes he'd chosen.
The mother looked at the chosen toy, then at the price sign and said softly:
- Son! This car is very expensive. We won't be able to buy it. Look at other cars.
"No! I don't want any other ones! I want this one, Mom! I've already chosen! Look how good it is!" Sasha chattered enthusiastically, showing his mother the toy he liked again and again.
Antonina Yegorovna approached her son and began to persuade him:
- Sasha! Son! The car you chose is very expensive! Mommy won't have enough money to buy it. Please, look at other cars!
-No! I want this one! - the boy stubbornly insisted.
Then the mother approached the little cars and pointed them out to Sasha again:
- Son, look! These cars are good too. Choose one of them!
"No! I want this one! Only this one!" Sasha screamed and grabbed the toy Mercedes with both hands.
"What is he doing? The bully! He's going to break the toy!" the saleswoman screamed, running up to the boy and forcibly pulling him away from the car.