Agnia flicks the Telegram screen upward.
"Did you hear? We're still in this!"
"That's nice…," I continue tying my right boot while sitting on concrete slabs piled by the roadside, as the girl rummages through her phone. "It would have been really great if you'd just listened to what I was saying…"
She isn't listening. Or she pretends not to be.
"And is this our supervisor? Or did he forward someone else's conversation?"
"I have no idea. I haven't seen either of them."
"He seems nice…"
"Who?"
"The young guy… The one who was talking to the old man."
"How did you figure out he's nice?"
"Well… He sounds nice… A pleasant voice… I like it."
"Right…"
"What?"
"Just right," I stand up fully, but even so I'm still shorter than Agnia, who sways slightly on her snake-like tail. Luckily, all drones in the area are jammed by electronic warfare, otherwise such a commotion would attract too much attention.
"What are you staring at like that? Are you jealous or something?"
"Me?"
"Well, what else?"
"Nothing." I sigh and glance at my watch. Our guide is inexplicably late.
"You called me stupid for some reason… Do you think I'm dumb?"
"Uh-huh… Yeah…"
"Well, you immediately started babbling nonsense!... Such a bore…"
The girl puts on a friendly smile and takes a selfie against the backdrop of the setting sun, the reddish sky, and the black silhouettes of buildings.
Yes, there's still too much of the human left in her. However, my attending physician didn't consider this a flaw. While waiting for the procedure to end, he could sit by the couch for hours chatting about everything—science, philosophy… Jokingly boasting about his erudition, he once said he was "a physician and a follower of Epicurus." Objective reality is given to us through sensations, and our mind is merely a product of this collision. It's an attempt to rationally reflect sensory reality—to explain evil, justify pain, understand causes, and invent goals. According to Epicurus, the purpose of knowledge itself is to free oneself from prejudices and the fear of death. But humanity didn't want that. It found an easier path—just having fun. Why take another step when the first one is enough? Live. Consume. Enjoy sensations. Amuse yourself. Take pictures. Watch shorts. Don't be afraid. The problem is only that now humanity has become entertainment for itself. It began to enjoy watching its own self-destruction…
"Such a bore!" Agnia repeats, bringing me back to reality. A funny little vehicle approaches us, surrounded on all sides by anti-drone grids and with a pair of jamming antennas on the front, resembling the antennae of a large beetle. He reminds me of someone… This driver.
"You again?— I finally recognize my old acquaintance when he opens the door for us.— What's your name again?"
"Kirushka!" Agnia exclaims sincerely, climbing into the bus. The driver smiles broadly in response.
"You know his name?" I'm surprised.
"You would know it too if you weren't such a bookworm!"
Agnia settles into the back row of seats, stretching across the entire cabin. I sit on the side seat by the door, half-turned toward the driver.
"So, Kirill, huh?"
"Yeah!" the driver nods. This time he's dressed in a desert pixel-patterned field uniform without any insignia.
"You've been grounded from the helicopter to the steering wheel, haven't you?"
"Jokes, huh? Funny? Walking now… On the road with clouds…" the former helicopter pilot laughs. Agnia giggles from behind.
"You two!— Kirill cheerfully turns around.— Tap-tap with your feet… And everything else!"
The bus starts moving. Leaning against a flat engine compartment covered with some kind of checkered blanket, I look out the window at yellow-gray fields of dry grass and a clear blue sky. Only two small clouds. An east wind is driving them westward. And indeed… On the road.