The time stopped. The only sound was the subtle measured rocking of a huge vessel at a high power of one hundred thousand horsepower and creaking of ropes and pulleys which Colonel unsuccessfully tried to roll. At the slightest movement of the rings iron spikes painfully stuck into his ankles. A long time later, two orderlies in white smocks came. One of them loosened the rings and the rope and said:
- Anyway, you will die. However, if you work with us, we guarantee you an easy death. There is an insignificant chance to stay alive, own up. We have no time for you.
- Give me a cigarette.
The second nurse in response suddenly began whipping him with a lash so Dux yelled like a crazy man:
- You do not smoke. Communication, passwords, presence. Keep silent. Look at the second lash. It is called "the scourge of the Inquisition."
The ordinary whipped Dux with it and his whole body was in bloody wales, because there were thin metal shavings in the lash.
*
Colonel horrified waited for the next blow. But instead nurses tightened again the rope turned off the lights went out, and left eternity. Consciousness began fading. Dux said to himself with a difficulty with a smile: "Do not sleep you’ll freeze. The delirium tremens seems to begin!". The walls began weren’t yellow, and turned into a subtle swaying blanket developing by the breath of breeze. In black outlines of shadows there were grenadiers, who tried to grab him. Wind flew over the night sky, changing the vector attraction. And as if from somewhere incomprehensible warm waves of light ether were appearing.
Colonel closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw her.
She was tall, and her body was perfect. There was an angel in front of him. She was incomprehensibly dancing, he had never seen this dance. She seemed to be shadow, hid behind thin transparent veils. Armida was saying by her body that was impossible to say in words. Her dark brown eyes looked at him continuously and derisively and he gradually began to fascinate the senses of the unknown. Pain, cold, injuries and close death were at the background for Dux. He began to plunge into the unreal world and each of his mikro organels began to answer her divine dance music. His frozen gaze went to infinity. Distant detached trembling turned out the sound and a voice. She laughed merrily and waved her hand in front of his eyes:
- By the way, there is a young beautiful girl, in front of you!
*
He did not want to return to reality. He spoke in an incomprehensible language. With her gentle fingers she untied the rope and tormented hoops. Colonel was speechless, he began reeling and falling down on the floor. A young dancer hugged him with all her perfect body, flushed with a furious dance.
- You soiled my bodice – she hardly cried . - It's kind of dirt?
- It is blood - muttered Dux.
- Ouch! - She cried. She slapped him and took to the bathroom.
- Do not look - she cried.
Dux’ head began to swim. She put on a white towel, not to tempt. She washed the bodice and said:
- Wash up. Yes! Yes! Yes!
He went to the shower. He couldn’t contain, touched her for a moment and clanged to her. She paused for a moment, laughed and pushed him away.
- Are you a maniac? - She laughed. - Wash up!
He turned to the shower, tight and warm streams which washed off him the hell of the day: parched brown blood wales and sweat. When he turned round, he saw her.
- Let’s take off? Get in the Jacuzzi.
She turned off the light, lit the fragrant oriental candles. He, having forgotten about everything, plunged into the warm bubbling Jacuzzi. Dux closed his eyes. She put the tray with a red open wine Screaming Eagle, two glasses and expensive chocolates Patch then undressed and flopped down there too.
- Wash me - she said.
She gave him a piece of scented soap with a silk-adhesive of chitosan and silver of the company "Plank".
- Drink, - she said.
Colonel laughed internally.
- Die - he whispered - but not now.
They took two glasses and clinked glasses, the crystal divinely rang.
She did not quite understand what her body was doing. The two joined together and then he took her to the silk bedroom. They lay in the warm languor, like two freshly baked pies, sometimes limply kissing. But suddenly the dark was lit up with a bright flash, countless candles blown up the darkness and their hearts began beating. And caress air created thousands of luxury waves around them and again a delicious languor pierced again their senses, like footsteps on the hot sand.
Pain was leaving the wounded body, air was covered with a light luminous celestial ether. And there were no ice deadly cold gusts, no dry bitter thirst, no the cacophony of the human chaos, and instead of it there was music of the sky and the touch transformed into excess like thrown off clothes. There was only incredibly strong, pure desire left, which could be felt only by the limpid bright white angels and gods creating the universes energy, eating flowers and invisible victims of eternal nectar.
And hoarse convulsive groans of love, which can not be confused with anything broke through multi-ton iron walls of the tanker, the villain team, dull bay surf of the eternal ocean, scant vegetation, warehouses, docks, ordinary offices.
In this vision, there rolled the huge endless winding gold tower, tangled clean lines of destinies, passion, love with divine lights with spheres.
Slowly and steadily the Jupiters began to fade and the audience, spirits and angels were gradually leaving.
*
The fall from the first celestial sphere was terrible, with the smell of mothballs, poverty, hopeless old age, like a moth curtain. Unbearable pain pierced his whole body. Instead of love and pleasure he saw the torture iron cabin. In one corner there was a sailor's double-deck bed, covered with not fresh dense ball color sackcloth.
A dancer was over thirty, she was smoking a slim expensive cigarette Sobranie Cocktail. Her nails and lips in dark were somehow orange like a soldering iron.
- Get up, dyed bitch - she yelled.
- Do you speak Russian?
- Nope!
He laughed.
"Here's another fine mess I've got myself in!" - he thought. "These snakes have smeared me, probably, with some powerful drug."
- Who are you, dear?
- Get up, you iron bastard!
"We have to change tactics" - thought Dux.
Suddenly she screamed frantically:
- Gycha-ah!
He started to remember something.
- Listen, do you know Verka Maeva?
Firstly, she looked at him indifferently then suddenly in her dull eyes appeared a warm spark. The lady suddenly remembered his first quarantine. It has been lasting three months. The teacher lowers her voice, her painted lips curved in a smile that turns into a wicked grin.
"You must learn to look pointedly and sexy, playing the role of a sex bomb. You should be able to cover the pen with the poison, inject through the windshield eraser some potion, rouse for an hour a vomitive reflex at the sentenced and squeeze out the enemy's eyes. Be able to jump like a monkey picking fruit, fall like a swallow, drinking water, and be able to defend yourself, like a virgin. "
- Are where you from here?
- I had an affair.
- How is she?
- Best of all.
- Does she work?
- No, she has two children, an oligarch.
- Well?
He looked at her testing. "I lose nothing by it," - he thought.
- Then say hello to Vasily Ivanovich.
Her jaw dropped. She paused for a moment, then dumped asked:
- Well. What do you want?
They spoke Russian.
- You seem to be Olivia?
- Nope.
- Help me to get out of here.
- It is unreal. You were filmed. You told everything. You were pumped with kilograms of cannabis extract.