Abandoned World: The Awakening

People like him. But he, unlike the rest of the chosen few, knows something else. He knows what the ideal in the world looks like. The kind of perfect that can't be repeated. The one that only happens once for every one time. That one time that can only be seen in the process. Only then can

we see those secrets that are always hidden from us. That are revealed only for a moment at moments when you don't expect to see them Through the impossible at the most inopportune

time… What a wonderful feeling it is….

Peyton finally began to recover a little, his eyes opened and he could see normally. He was still sitting in the chair with his pants down, splattered with his cum, and Delaney was lying on the floor next to him. Her nose was bleeding, but she was breathing and apparently not as badly injured as it might have appeared at first glance.

— Why did I do that? — The elder said it aloud, and loudly enough. He continued to listen to the girl's breathing, and felt that she still had more than enough life in her. On the one hand, that thought struck him as odd — how he could determine someone's vitality from a distance just by breathing. But on the other hand, there was a certain level of reassurance that there was still room for change if he changed his mind.

— You can't change your mind! — A voice rumbled through his mind. He could have sworn that the voice that had just been in his head wasn't his own. It didn't belong to anyone at all. It was something he took for granted. As if it had nothing to do with the living or the dead. But to something beyond that And it seemed to him that it was impossible to argue with such an obvious

thought. One cannot overthink what was so important done in an impossible moment. It was unacceptable to overthink it.

At that moment he felt himself becoming aroused again. His cock began to rise again, and a light flickered in his eyes. There are still things to be finished. Don't do it now, and the next time won't be the same. You can't put these things off. Things that don't repeat themselves. The kind of thing that only happens once in a lifetime. And this is his moment.

Peyton looked down at the floor and saw a glass lying around. The thought flashed through his mind that if he hit it, there might be splinters and they might fly off into his eye. It's very unlikely, but it distances him from perfection. It distances him from doing what is right in one single moment, which can only be now. You can't think about the possibility of breaking a glass — you only have to think about doing the right thing. You can't fear something — you only have to do something right.

No. With that glass next, he can only mess things up.

He's still got his hands. They're perfect. They'll do the right thing.

He wanted to crawl out of his chair a little, to get close to Delaney, to wrap his arms around her and choke her gently until she stopped breathing altogether. But then he found it hard to breathe. He began to feel his breath literally being taken away. Something under his shoulder blade began to ache strangely… He really wasn't young anymore. This kind of exertion is not something he's old enough to handle. He's overdoing it. It's too much for him… And even though the moment is perfect. Even though it won't happen again. But his strength was leaving him… Enough for just one action. Just one. Then he couldn't do anything else.

Peyton reached for his phone on his desk and picked up the receiver and dialed the medical

section.

Heddock

He liked to do what he was doing in his own time — not just to head the Enlightenment section, but to teach lessons on his own. He had read somewhere that in schools the headmasters themselves conducted some separate subjects for the pupils, because that way one could not just head the enterprise from on high, but also know all the pupils from the inside. To know what they were capable of, whether they were diligent or not, whether they were smart or not, whether they wanted something from life, and what they represented for the school in general.

Haddock wanted to know all this, but he had a more difficult task. Seven thousand people. And though not all subjects had to be taught to the adult population, absolutely everyone had to be taught history. And that was the subject he taught personally. Every day, without a day off. He had a little bit of class every day. And every day he told what he thought was necessary to instill in the minds of the station's inhabitants.

After all, the history he taught, only he knew. And only he himself had made it up. Of course, a small part of it was devoted to ancient history: Egypt, Sumer, China, Ancient Greece and Rome, the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, the Golden Age of Diplomacy, the bloody 20th century and a small piece of the 21st century. To this small piece of the 21st century he gave all his attention, reconstructing it into a huge layer of information, flowing smoothly from the reality he himself knew from records found on various kinds of media, and the reality he created to prove that everyone was on Earth and not somewhere else.

And that's where he really had to work hard. It was not the kind of demagoguery that Peyton Cross could carry on endlessly, adding two plus two and getting the number necessary for any needs. This is quite different — it was necessary to argue, to prove, to build a logical chain with a verified result. This requires not the gift of persuasion, but a smart head on your shoulders, capable of building a systematic approach to imparting this information not only to the younger generation, but also to adults.

Yes, of course, it must be assumed that everyone knows nothing. That they're willing to initially believe anything. But that's just in the beginning. And as time passes: maybe months, maybe years, in any case, questions will appear. And the answers to these questions should already be ready. The earlier the answer is ready, the easier it will be accepted. You could, of course, tell the what and why as the questions come in, as Peyton Cross does, but then you'd have to repeat the same thing fiercely and fanatically all day long. In a way that makes it seem credible. And then it's all about one thing: the endless ability to persuade with emotion. Accordingly, everything will live in this case as long as this ability remains in the same form. And that means that everything will live literally on its word of honor.

And Charlie Haddock wasn't happy with that state of affairs. Everything had to work on its own. People had to tell everything and prove things to each other on their own. People had to argue

with each other, not with him, not with Heddock. That's the fundamental difference between his approach and that of the Elder in charge of all the propaganda on Apollo 24.

And now he was standing in front of a room full of grown-up, established people, and he was telling about how people had once brought the Earth to the state it was in now. How they had overfilled it with themselves, how they had polluted the rivers, seas and lakes. How they spoiled the air. How they disturbed the world balance of everything: the water cycle in nature, the carbon dioxide content in the atmosphere, even the tilt of the Earth to its own axis. And it all led to what they can see now.

How everyone had hoped something might get better when a group of survivors decided to put the remaining population of the planet into cryo-chambers, set a thousand-year time limit on their stay, and wake them up afterward. And it was all done by them. By themselves. It's obvious, and it couldn't be otherwise, because they were the ones who woke up in those cryo-chambers, even if they didn't remember anything from their past.

The whole concept could have been contained in a few sentences, but Haddock stretched it out over two and a half hours. There are no superfluous words in confirmation. They're redundant in justification. When you want to disprove something. But when you have to prove something, every extra word is just an extra brick on the scales of your argument.

— Any questions? — Haddock finished speaking and stared good-naturedly at his audience.

About three hundred people were listening to him now, many of them for more than the first time, and he had the impression that he was among like-minded people rather than listeners.

The young lad raised his hand:

— Yes, I have, Mr. Haddock.

— Please. What's your name?

— My name is Austin…

— Please, Austin. What is your question?

— I'd like to know… Anyway… If the Earth was so overpopulated… And there were so many people. All over the Earth… Why was there only one station left? Why not several? There could have been many stations if there were so many people…

He had no sooner finished than an elderly rather than mature-looking woman shouted at him and interrupted him, claiming that he was talking nonsense:

— Yeah, you really don't get it, do you? It was all to save us! We barely survived. We only stayed in one piece because we were desperate enough to take such an important step. If we hadn't, all of humanity would have died. All of it! How can you not understand that?!

She was joined by a younger woman and a few other people of different ages, occasionally nodding at some of their remarks. From different parts of the hall there were various shouts of reproach at the young man. Austin himself tried to say that he was asking his question to the lecturer, that the essence of the question was a desire to understand what had happened, not to reproach someone for decisions, that all he wanted was to get a better understanding of cause and effect and nothing more. No one listened to him. He was only interrupted, taught, gagged, and from a certain point he was rebuked for his stupidity and arrogance.

Haddock looked at this and could not be pleased with the way he had structured his whole process. It was not for nothing that he had categorized his audience so well — he must always have with him those who, at the level of faith, agreed with his arguments. The kind of people for whom his truth is an immutable, almost sacred truth that cannot be questioned even in their own minds, let alone in public.

When he looked at something like this, all he did was to calm down every time. His truth has an ironclad hold on this world. His truth could already exist on its own. These lectures, in fact, were already necessary just to stretch oneself. To shake up the old days, so as not to lose his grip. And for

my own satisfaction and to raise my spirits, it was very important to make sure once again that the system works smoothly and durably. That it was not based on the moment, not on chance, but on verified calculations, which can really exist forever.

Haddock's assistant stealthily entered the hall and quietly approached him. He came very close to him and whispered in his ear:

— Mr. Haddock, Peyton Cross has had a heart attack. And Delaney Harper was found unconscious with him. She has a concussion.

— Did he do that to her? — Heddock asked, also in a whisper.

— I guess so.

— I'm coming. — The head of the Enlightenment section turned toward the hall, where the argument with the clear winners and outsider was still going on, and addressed them:

— Well, it looks like we've got all the answers, so on that happy note, I suggest we end our lecture today….

***

When Heddock had first heard what had happened, he had thought the old man had had a little too much to drink and then misjudged his strength, not out of spite, but rather in a flash of fleeting anger, had hit his girlfriend. But the details were somewhat different: Peyton with his pants down and semen on his own belly, Delaney lying next to a broken head and bloody nose, and an empty glass near the chair. Heddock's opinion changed somewhat after hearing all this.

There was no such thing as an outburst of rage. It seemed like sadism on the elder's part. First he hit her on the cheek, and then he hit her on the head with the glass. It was unclear in what order he had cum, but the interconnection of these things was a little frightening.

Haddock knew about the adventures of his best propagandist, his mind and doubt caster. He knew that Delaney was a frequent visitor, and had seen the details of the meetings several times, even on hidden cameras. The predicament they were both in only told him that, at least initially, things had gone on as they usually did. But something had gone wrong This "wrong" was not yet

clear in Haddock's mind, because Peyton had never been known for any kind of physical aggression.

Yes, he often shouted in arguments, often waved his index finger, made menacing faces and glared not only at his opponents, but at all interlocutors. There was no doubt that this was just a stage role and nothing more. And it was all the more confirmed by the fact that even in those cases, when something could come to a fight, Peyton, seeing it, hastily hid behind the backs of his colleagues, shielding himself from possible danger. And he never tried to hit someone himself, no matter how much he threatened to do so. In short, violence was quite alien to his nature.

But here it looked as if he was whipping a woman who was pleasuring him at the same time. Doing what he wanted. And he responded with a glass to the head. I couldn't think of anything but sadistic tendencies coupled with some other psychotic disorder.

Maybe the old man became so arrogant that he began to think that he was the master of destinies? All sorts of things happen in people's brains, and when you control the mass consciousness of people, the roof can go off in no time — you look back and you don't recognize the person. But why now?

Peyton has been doing what he does for two decades. He's been a member of the Council of Elders for more than twenty years now, since the institution of the Council of Elders was invented. What's happened lately that's so special that he suddenly needs to do something like this? Or has he been doing it for a long time and we just haven't noticed? Wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't been for his heart attack.? Somebody, and Delaney at least had an answer for that.

***

— Are you feeling any better? — Heddock stood in front of Delaney, still holding the ice rocks to her head. The station used shards of rock cooled from the outside for cooling — temperatures

outside could reach minus 170 degrees Celsius, and by lowering molds with these rocks on special elevators, anything could be cooled instantly.

— I'm disgusted…" the girl was really desperate. In addition to the bruise on her head and the redness on her nose, she had a crying face and a burst vessel in her eye, making it even redder. She was pitiful to look at, especially since Heddock kept thinking of Sierra, who also frequented his office for similar purposes. And though he distinguished himself from Peyton quite thoroughly, the similarity of the situations made him uneasy.

Heddock crouched down beside her and put his arms around her shoulders:

— Delaney, it's all behind us now… Understand, it's better for us to know what happened there… Incidents of violence on the station are very dangerous. It affects all of us… We don't have the ability to relocate somewhere or give second chances at anything. There are only seven thousand of us. You know that yourself. That's all of humanity… We can't have people among us who are dangerous to the rest of us… Delaney, do you realize how important what you know is?

Heddock was very good at making conversation so that no one thought of turning the situation on him. It wasn't the first time he'd had to act on his own, but he couldn't say openly that he was in charge, of course. After all, he was officially not a rank-and-file member, but not the first, not an elder, not the head of the Security Section. And the role that was given to him as the head of the Enlightenment Section only allowed him to act with soft power, to ask for help, to be in the position of someone who needed something himself. And in this line of work it was only possible to ask for something, if it did not concern education and ideology. On the other hand, Heddock arranged things in such a way that ideology became pervasive in all walks of life in society, which meant that any deviation was nothing but his direct work. People didn't want to be guilty under him

— they wanted to do something for the common good, and that was his main advantage over those people who worked in the Security Section.

— I get it… And it's precisely because I get it that I don't feel like doing something that will send Peyton into Tosca.

— Delaney, we're doing everything we can to make sure that doesn't happen. He's an elder. He's supposed to set an example for us. Trust me, no one knows anything about this yet. And I give you my word that nothing you tell me will leave this room…" Heddock put his hand around the room and returned it to Delaney's shoulder. Despite her current battered and weepy appearance, she still looked very attractive. Also with that cutout on her chest. And with a few glances at her breasts from above, being quite close, Heddock felt himself getting aroused, which was bad timing. So he took his hands off her, sat back a little, and crossed his palms and stared into her eyes.

— You promise? Promise that Peyton won't go to Tosca?

— Delaney. No Longing. It's all behind us now. We just need to know what was there.

— I just came to him… I came as usual… We are very close… I really like the way he can say things, prove things, explain things… I mean, he's very smart… I really like that… I relax from that.

— Yeah, okay… You went to see him… What mood was he in?

— It was business as usual. He was happy to see me. He was happy as usual. And what he'd had to drink beforehand was business as usual, too. He drank before seeing me often enough. I even started to like it over time… I realize it was his way of relaxing. To make it easier for him with me…

You realize we have a dumb age difference. I don't know how whiskey can help with that, but… I just want him to be able to… Well… Fuck me. So he can do it.

— I understand… Okay. You came. He'd had a drink by then. He was in a mood. You went up to him— Then?

— We started making love…

— I realize this may not be easy to say. How exactly it was… It's not necessary. It's true.

— No, I'll tell you… I started giving him blowjobs… He loved it all. I could feel it. And then he gave my cheek a weird squeeze with his hand, a painful squeeze. I cried out and asked what he was doing. He looked kind of weird, like he was out of it. But I thought it was from excitement. Though that had never happened before… Anyway, I continued on, and at some point he slapped me hard again on the same spot. On my cheek. And I fell to the floor… It was horrible. I didn't understand what had happened at all. I didn't understand why he did it. I was fine. My nose was bleeding. I looked at him, trying to figure out why he did it… But I didn't even have the heart to ask him… To ask him why…" Delaney burst into tears, and Haddock put his arms around her, gently stroking her back.

— It's all right, Delaney. It's all over now… You don't have to tell me more if you don't want to… It's all right….

— And then he picked up his whiskey glass from the table and finished it There was

something awful about it It was like he was celebrating some kind of accomplishment as he drank.

Like he was glad he could do that… And his eyes. He'd never had such scary eyes. It was as if they

weren't his eyes. They even changed color. They became kind of glassy… And… Young I remember

exactly what really surprised me was how young his eyes could be at his age. And when he finished

the glass, I thought that was the end of it. That he'd say something to me now. Somehow explain why he did it… And the last thing I remember is him swinging that glass at me… It was so scary. I

don't remember such a scary expression on his face in my life. There was no anger or hatred in it. I don't know if it was towards me or something else. It was like he was just happy that he was doing

it. That he had finally waited so long for the moment, and now he could finally do it It's

monstrous… And it's even more monstrous that he did it to me….

— I understand, Delaney. It's all behind us now. I promise no one will ever hurt you again.

— But I don't want him to be sent to Tosca! — the girl pulled back a little. — I know what will happen to him in Tosca. I don't want that-it's some kind of insanity. I'm sure it will pass.

She kept saying something else about how he'd get better, that it had been a fleeting mistake and that all good things were yet to come, and Heddock was thinking about the words "I know what's going to happen to him in Tosca". Was this someone telling everyone what was going on in his prison? That even a structure separate from the main station doesn't allow for complete privacy?

After all, all wardens were selected separately, vetted and are vetted constantly. They have no contact with the other citizens of Apollo-24 and do not communicate with the prisoners. And of the prisoners themselves, no one can pass on anything, because if he gets into special conditions, there is no way back. And those who return have not undergone anything terrible. So what could Delaney be afraid of if he can't know?

— I don't see what's so scary about someone in Tosca. Delaney, they just isolate people from society so they don't pose a threat. That's all.

— Oh, yeah?! And make them pick on each other after the toss?

— What draw?

— That they were given the opportunity to guess the side of the coin eagle/rare and if they won, the warden and if they lost, the prisoner. You didn't know about this? You're the head of the Enlightenment. Didn't you know that?

Now that was interesting. Peyton couldn't have known about it, because everything that happened to him was always bugged, watched and tapped. Some conversation would have revealed it. Delaney must have learned it from somewhere else… But such details…..

It was beginning to look like Haddock had a whole hidden movement brewing somewhere, looking for and then spreading this kind of information. And maybe even an organized movement that someone was leading. And this someone may well be hatching plans of a political nature. There were so many thoughts in his head that it was getting scary how much could be hidden behind the