The ex-navigator has sighed and has closed a window. To go, whether that, to Zhenke? Yes is not present, it for certain you
will not find the house. obveshalsja dictophones of the newest system also rushes across all Ural Mountains: in a head thirty
three cares, not including small commissions. How he tells it? "It is necessary to fill a lack of knowledge with surplus of
energy". Fine person Shejla, understands all. But it never is not present the house, when there is no the house of Zhenki.
The navigator has gone to a dining room and has drunk still a glass narzanu. Perhaps, to have dinner? Thought quite good,
it is possible to have dinner carefully and with taste. Only it would not be desirable to eat...
The navigator has approached to a window of the Line of Delivery, has typed the code number at random and with curiosity
began to wait that will turn out. Over a window the green lamp has flashed: the order is executed. The navigator with some
opaskoj has shifted a cover. At the bottom of a spacious cubic box there was a cardboard plate. The navigator took it and
has put on a table. On a plate two lay krepenkih a fresh-salted cucumber.
Such cucumbers - yes on "Tajmyr", by the end of the second year... Perhaps to descend to the Protosou? protos rare soul
the person. But after all it is very occupied, lovely old Protos. All good people are occupied by something...
The navigator absent-mindedly took a cucumber from a plate and has eaten. Then he has eaten the second and has carried
a plate in a refuse chute. "Perhaps again to descend to loaf about among volunteers? - He has thought. - or to go to China?
In China I was not..." Reflexions of the navigator have been interrupted by signal singing - someone asked of the permission
to enter. The navigator was delighted, he has not got used, that to it came. Probably, great-great-grandsons from false
modesty did not wish it to disturb. For all week that he here lived, he was only once visited by the neigbour, the eighty-year-
old fresh woman with old-fashioned knot of black hair on a nape. It was introduced by the senior operator of a bakery and
within two hours patiently learnt it to type figures on the keyboard panel of the Line of Delivery. Heart-felt conversation with it
somehow it has not turned out, though it undoubtedly was the excellent person. Some times without any invitation very
young great-great-grandsons absolutely deprived, apparently, of feeling of false modesty were. These visits have been
dictated by reasons purely egoistical. One, apparently, has come to read to the navigator the ode "On returning
of"Tajmyra"from which the navigator has understood only separate words (" Tajmyr "," Space ") - an ode was on suahili.
Another worked over Edgara Allan Po's biography and without special hope asked any little-known details from a life of the
great American writer. Kondratyev has retailed to its gossip about E.A.Po's meetings with A.S.Pushkinym and has advised to
address to Evgenie Slavin. Other youths and little girls were that in terms of the twenty first century Kondratyev has defined
as" collecting of autographs ". But even young hunters behind autographs were better, than anything, therefore singing of a
signal of Kondratyev has pleased.