The Makers (СИ)

And Aia still smiled him back: "It's just a trifle, dad. You'll see, everything will be fine."

And then the "good" was crushed. One day he's end up passed out on the floor and got to hospital.

When they'd left him there, and he stood by the window, sad and lonely, and watched them go, Aia for the first time felt everything was wrong.

Subsequently, everything had been only condensed and concentrated, forming a reality she did not want.

After a week, he was released home with sick-pay, and he's started to wait for the logical end at home.

At first he attempted to read. Everything was doubled in his eyes, and he closed his unruly left eye with his hand or eyepatch and continued. But the monster inside didn't hush. It lived and swelled, sucking all the gists out of the body that carried it.

Aia's father gave up a bit: it was harder and harder for him to get up in the mornings and sit in the chair. And then, while the headache attacks came, he'd finished reading and had been listening to the radio earphone and dying away quietly, and that was business of his life.

The doctors from the ambulance service, who visited them during his headaches more and more often, pricked him with a sleeping and analgesic mixture and shook his head in frustration, looking at Aia's mother: "Why don't you, dear, ease his suffering?" "He wanna live in full consciousness," mother answered, sobbing.

He did not want.

"Don't worry, daddy," Aia whispered, looking at his skull, draped in a skin. "Anyway all will be all right."

The monster peeped out more and more boldly through the nostrils of this skull, and Aia felt relieved that her father was already almost blind and could not see the horror splashed in her eyes.

"I don't, honey," he answered, barely able to move his tongue. "Soon it will be all the same to me. It's you and mom don't worry. You stay."

And then the fiend that does not have a mouth devoured him. Totally.

The next doctors who flew to the next challenge, once again pricked him intravenously something that alleviated his agony and told Aia's mother: "He"s dying, sweetheart. He can be reanimated, but try to reckon a bit onward - it's not obligatory for all of you. If shake and pull him out today, a similar turn would be happen tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. So he will die as many times as you will make us bring him back to you. Eat something sedative and free him. "

He died.

Aia almost didn't feel a grief. She didn't cry. The father's death, cremation and the next few days had been going quietly and ordinarily.

And then, in the one stunning morning, she has originated her father back.

3. 2033rd year. Lukasz.

Actually, the first Maker was a Czech. The Maya tribe were still right, making up their calendar. The Maya tribe were right, predicting the beginning of the sixth sun era at the end of the 2012 year. The first Maker was conceived exactly on December 21, 2012, and the beginning of a new world has coincided with his arrival.

However, a few months before the first major origination, a graduated physicist and a psychic named Sam Bibich issued an as yet uninteresting patent to an as yet worthless generator of the psy-energetic shield.

As a kid, the first Maker, Czech Lukasz Lansky, was very much like his peers.

Like any normal boy, he had a weird dreams, in which sometimes he had a strange wings and terrible claw paws. Like any normal boy, whose parents do not strain him too much, he also spent all his childhood in the nearby courtyards.

In his spare time little Lukasz played football with his friends, run like a crazy one with the Jedi sword, which was carved from a handle for a mop with the penknife, stole in the nearest supermarket on a dare cigarettes and soda in front of the video cameras and other security stuff.

Since the boy studied not so badly, the parents almost didn't bother him, allowing almost everything that didn't go too far beyond the bounds of decency and common sense. The periodically appearing strange things, such as self-crawling plasticine or lego robots, didn't come across and didn't bother anyone. You never know what a children dream about...

***

By the time of the first major origination Lukasz Lansky was almost twenty years old. He has graduated from public gymnasium of Jan Kepler, he has tamped in the head combinatorics, fundamentals of probability theory, analytic geometry, set theory and had no one star snatched from the sky in assets. And he also had a girlfriend named Alice.

***

Summer of that year was amazing. July was hot and torrid, as it should be in July. The study was over, the holidays have begun, and the next fortnight promised to be cloudless and pleasant.

The linden trees blossomed. Prague smelled of linden so lusciously, greenly and so tenderly that the head was spinning. Lukasz and Alice walked a lot in the parks and squares.

The summer buzzed, and nothing foretold troubles.

At that very day also everything flowed as usual.

"Hi! How about beach?" Lukasz shouted from below.

"It doesn't matter," Alice shrugged from the third floor balcony.

And what else could you do on a similar summer day, except to languish with the heat, which began in May?

***

On the right bank of the Vltava, behind the tunnel in Vysehrad crag, immediately after the yacht club, stretched a large city beach. Of course, the river is not the sea. Of course, water in the river was dirty, and you could only look at it. Nevertheless, the beach stretched for almost a kilometer. And as for swim...

You didn't have to do it.

They sat very near the water. He was in yellow swimming trunks, she was wearing a blue bikini. The river flowed quietly, sleepily and majestically. Up and down along the stream, the delicate openwork Vltava bridges gracefully arched their aristocratic backs. The sun and clouds sparkled in leisured water.

At the Palacky Bridge a motorboat ended the turn and started to speed up. It was a white lovely three-ton one with a broad red stripe and the inscription "Aiax" on the starboard side. It went slick and smoothly, as if neither wind no current weren't able to break the plans of its invisible captain. And yes, strictly speaking, it was so.

Neither Lukasz, nor Alice, nor even the any others in this July morning couldn't even imagine that this boat was not just an ordinary piece of iron with a displacement of three tons, but a faint breath of something incomprehensible and powerful, something what in a matter of seconds would whirl the very reality, they were used to. Like a light speck of dust.

Meanwhile, the boat completed the turn, and its nose turned out to be exactly in the direction of the beach.

***

Then, much later, when very few people remembered the incident, and Lukasz was all everyone was talked about, the most attentive ones remembered that the captain of the boat, surrounded by a palisade of television cameras, gave the impression of a deranged.

"I turned around at the Palacky Bridge," he told the reporters of the Prague Mezzo-TV, "and the boat speeded and went parallel to the embankment, but at the very beach it sharply wagged to the right and was thrown ashore. At the time of flight through the air, there something hit in one of the screws, something horrible, it stopped spinning for a while, the motor stalled, but on the arc I was again thrown into the water and turned. I immediately braked and dropped anchor.