The girl claps her hand against the table following the rhythm, the beer flows like a river. I get to know all the company, making Vika to remember all faces and names just in case. Using my distraction, one of them shakes my hand for the long time and sticks a primitive marker onto my shoulder. I pretend that I doesn't notice anything, hug the guy in a burst of friendliness and throw the marker back at him.

Go ahead and trace me now, lamer.

The fun reaches its peak, everybody's happy, including the smart lamer.

My head is already full with intoxicating fog, I stand up and smile to the players, – I have to go.

Nobody asks why or tries to make me stay longer. Being in the Deep isn't a free fun. I make my way among the tables, imaginary cubes hiss above my head, opening and spitting out monsters. I force myself not to duck.

I have around 5 more hours. Now "Labyrinth"'s divers are busy with Unfortunate, but for some reason I'm sure they'll fail.

Turning into the alley, I stop. Abyss-abyss, I'm not yours….

As a first thing after getting the helmet off, I opened the fridge, took out the soda, sausage and yogurt. It's time for lunch.

Everything is quiet on the screen. Gunslinger stands propped against the wall, rare passers-by don't pay attention to him. Some queer fellow whisks into "Amusements'" door.

– Hey, not to Vika! – I said following him.

– I haven't understood you Lenia, – replied Windows-Home.

– Never mind, – I said hiding my eyes, – Everything's okay.

I start feeling uncomfortable suddenly, what if somebody have come to that, virtual Vika? I imagined myself starting the fight in the nonexistent brothel and smiled but began to eat much faster anyway.

– Lenia, – said Windows-Home, – I must do my monthly reminders to you.

– Fire away, – I growl.

– To call your parents, – reproachfully says Vika, – I can dial the number, but this will require the phone line to be freed…

– No.

Not very nice of course, but I better call them in the evening.

– To pay your utilities.

Yeah, it's better not to postpone that. They can shut down the phone line in the least desirable moment…

– Thanks.

– To clean the apartment.

I looked around quickly. Yup, it'd be great to wash the floor and to wipe the dust and to paint the rusty central heating unit.

– Thanks Vika, acknowledged.

– Also, one more time I draw you attention to the fact that the level of the given tasks doesn't always correspond to the capacity of my RAM…

– Shut up.

I put my hands on the keyboard, pushed the empty yogurt carton down to the floor so that it wouldn't hinder me.

deep Enter I glue off of the wall, enter brothel's glass doors and Madam comes out to meet me.

– You're early today Gunslinger.

– Well, at least not for long this time.

Madam smiles and strokes my cheek.

– Just don't take the girls in.

– I'll try, – I reply with a voice of well behaving kid.

Madam nods, not really sure and turns to the guard:

– Escort him to the service area. To Vika.

– Thanks a lot! – I say from all my heart. Madam waves her hand tiredly and goes to the stairs. The guard nods at the little door that he stands by.

With a little confusion I follow him, into the very heart of the brothel.

There's a clean corridor, the summer forest behind the windows, the river and the bright sun. Heh, but Madam said it's always evening here… still want some sun, don't you?

The row of doors along the corridor, no names or numbers on them but the pictures instead. Kittens, puppies, mice, hares… It reminds a kindergarten a little, but a half naked blonde suddenly looks out of one of the doors, oys, vividly covers her breasts and jumps back inside.

I try to keep the straight face. There are rustles behind the doors when I pass them, the light noise can be heard. I know that if I turn around I'll see a dozen curious faces looking into the corridor. That's why I don't turn.

The guard stops by the door with a thoughtful black kitten on it and knocks.

– Yes? – I hear the voice that I instantly recognize and start slightly.

– A visitor, – replies the guard.

– Let him enter.

The guard taps me on my shoulder slightly and walks away. He's asked in whispers about something from half opened doors, but doesn't reply.

I enter, followed by the mocking gaze of the kitten.

The room looks like a hut in the mountains. The window is opened and the gusts of chilly wind enter the room, the noise of the river can be heard. Vika sits on the simple wooden chair by the window, studying her face in the little mirror, the quite up-to-date cosmetic set is on the table nearby.

– Hi, – she says, – Sit here quietly for a little bit, okay?

I nod and look around. There are watercolors on the walls, unfamiliar ones, almost all of them show the mountains, the fog and pine trees. They seem monotonous at the first glance, like creations of a hack-worker, prepared for the weekly sale but I look closer and nod in approval, these are not a 'stamping' made by experienced hand but rather a series.

– How would you call them? – asks Vika without turning around. It's nice to have a mirror.

– I Dunn, – I confess, – I always had problems with names. Well, for instance…

I pass along the walls, touching frames carefully. The mountains or maybe just one mountain but at different points of view, dense lashes of the fog, pine trees stuck to the slopes. The morning chill and dry liquid air. The ringing stream, rustles of wind, as if the picture can make sounds.

– Labyrinth, – I say, – Labyrinth of reflections.

Vika makes-up her lips ans agrees thoughtfully:

– Maybe… The main thing: it's vague. They buy better with such names.

– These are your pictures?

I'm amazingly slow minded lately.

– Yes. Doesn't look like that?

– It does. But I just thought you selected them with good taste.

– Geez, men… – Vika stands up at last. She is dressed in the white linen knee-long dress, sandals, the silver pendant hangs on a chain from her neck. – Is it supposed to be a first date compliment?

– The second date, – I try to joke.

– No, the first one. It was work in the morning.

– Okay, then I'll start telling you compliments, – I mumble, – You're clever, beautiful, talented…

– Add 'punctual' to it, – Vika ties her hair with a white band.

– No, I better say – generous. It's a heroism to sell such paintings.

– Nonsense, – Vika waves her hand lightly, – I sell the originals, these stay with me. They are better.

She didn't notice her mistake, and I'm really glad for it; I say quickly:

– Why?

– They sound.

Oh, that's what it is… The sound of wind and splashing of water coming from the paintings wasn't an illusion.

– The new art is being born, – I say.

– It was born long time ago and not only one new art. We just don't understand yet that this is an art. When the cave people were drawing deer on the walls it wasn't instantly recognized as an art either.

– Well, in this case all Deeptown is a work of art.

– Sure. Not all of it but some places sure are. Come here.

Vika grabs my hand without ceremonies and drags me to the window.

– Look.

Now I see, Vika was painting from nature… but do such mountains really exist? The central peak – hardly. It is at least ten kilometers high, it breaks out of the mountains chain as a proud rebel. The clouds circle its crest, unable to cover it. The mountain looks like cut into layers – the dark green of the forests, the light green of alpine meadows, the snowy ring and the gray lifeless granite of the peak itself.

The lake is spread out between the mountain and our hut which stands on considerable height too. The lake is not too big but is perfectly round, I'd say – looking drawn if it wasn't so alive. The water is dark blue, heavy, on the point of freezing.