Struggle. Prisoners of Darkness
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"Got it," Raphael replied and wandered off toward Route 1, tilting his head even more than before. He never wanted to be thought of as lazy or afraid of death. Although no one thought so – on the contrary, they called him "The Rock" rather than "Son of the Mountain" for his strong character, as if to separate him from his father's merits, even if they were not so great – even his father had not been so eager to work.
"And don't forget to bandage your arm," Gabriel shouted after him. On top of the fact that bandages were terribly scarce (so scarce that you had to wash old ones several times until they were completely washed out), the plagues also forbade them to be worn outside of Sector 1. This went in as an appendix to the "Clothing Charter", where you couldn't wear any items that weren't work related, and went on to list those items. And if something was forgotten (this was the case with Stanislaw Leszczynski, who wore a chain with a cross many years ago; generally speaking, many people wore them, just as long as they had one, but it was him who was noticed for it), it was immediately introduced, including the "first case" (Leszczynski's head was cut off, because it was the chain that held the cross).
"That's a fine son you have," the same woman addressed Gabriel. "Yes… Yes…"
"His fiancee is the same, isn't she? It's like they were made for each other…"
"What?" the Mountain turned to the woman and, seeing her sincere and joyful eyes, asked. – What bride? Elizaveta Mikhailovna, aren't you confusing anything?"
"Gavriil Vladimirovich. How can I be confused? Her name is Maria. You know her… She's so light-skinned… He wanted to tell you himself, but obviously he didn't have time…"
"Wow… How long have they been together?"
"Oooh… A long time ago. She's from the 253rd soma. When did we 'move' here? Three years ago, I think. They've been together ever since."
"Wow," the commander marveled once more, not at the fact that his son hadn't told him such a thing (that wasn't uncommon), but at how long he had been able to hide the very fact of their love.
"What is it? Are you not pleased?" – Elizaveta Mikhailovna asked.
"No, more like the opposite. And very much so… And what did you say her name was?" "Maria."
Gora stared at her with a waiting look – need a last name. "Maria Volina."
"I see… Thank you, Elizaveta Mikhailovna. Good health to you," Gavriil led out and walked towards the transportation hub (tracks 4, 5 and 6) where the loading of coal by the 253rd Soma was taking place.
Now all of Gora's thoughts went to his family. He remembered how he had met his wife Elena twenty-one years ago. She wasn't from his soma either, yet he hadn't managed to hide it from his father for more than two months (a very tangible result for a situation where "free" movement is not at all – plagues pass to work, then back, and sometimes outside
–
that's all movement). But three years?! That's a real conspiracy… Although the main factor in Gabriel's discovery of his
relationship with Elena was strong feelings – he couldn't live with her (it's past tense, now you have to: Elena died in an explosion four years ago).
How comparable it was to the relationship between his son and Maria Gora could not determine – for that it was necessary to see
her with his own eyes.
Entering the sector of the transportation hub, Gavriil outlined to himself one of today's problems and calculated with what kind of question the commander of this event would come to him now – the work at the 253rd soma today has not gone well. It was clear why: the people had not slept well, and in addition to that yesterday they had no strength left.
Gora moved a little from the entrance to the corner of the room: there was a wide view, in fact, he himself often stood at this point during his group's shifts.
The pretty girl glared at him for a moment, then turned away, continuing to fill the container with coal. Despite her lustrous golden hair and rather tall stature, she didn't really stand out, but her gaze gave him away. She looked at him like someone she didn't know personally, but at the same time familiar in general. It was hard for Gabriel to get a good look at her face from such a distance, but it seemed familiar.
"Mountain!" – came a shout from somewhere on the edge, which is how everyone greeted him today for some reason: Georgy Volin, deputy chief of the 253rd Som (number 2536484B2), sparkled with joy.
"Volin, of course! – Gabriel cried out in thought. – That's whose daughter she is. Well, that's good. She has a great father. A real actor."
Three seconds later, the zam was already beside him. "Ahhhh…" he cheered, hugging Gabriel. – It's good to see
you."
Volin relaxed his hands, leaned back, still holding on to Gabriel's forearms: "My chief is looking for you. We don't
have any rage here – we're obviously going to fall short of the plan.
"I don't think it's a gimmick to anyone," Gora replied, trying to put his colleague at ease.
#Yes, yes. – Volin couldn't stop playing with his eyebrows. – Except that today we're going to surprise everyone. Ha- Ha-Ha-Ha."
"I like your healthy optimism."
"Who else here can be healthy… Since you like it, take me in with your family."
"And does he know, too," thought Gabriel. – that my son is about to marry his daughter?"
"I'm just kidding! – he was really joking. – Without people like me, people here would die from losing their sense of humor… Really, people like me are almost all catfish here. Don't you think?"
"Our whole column is differentiated by that."
"Here, by the way, is a new anecdote: "A miner asks another, "Who can be considered a coward?" Answer: "He who volunteers for the Maquis." Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. It's true, there's nothing to do here but die: there's nothing to breathe, everything around is exploding, and there's nothing to say about food and water," at the end of the sentence he turned serious and shook his head negatively.
"So is there anything I can help you with?"
"Sure, buddy, sure. Here comes the commander. Talk to him, and I'll go cheer up the people," – Volin retreated and, turning around, rushed towards the locomotive loaded with minerals.
Gora turned his head to the side – the commander of Soma #235, Ivan Dubrovsky (number 547137A2), did not radiate half the optimism of his deputy (a good and effective method in contrasting leadership). As he approached, he reached out and shook his hand, then turned his sad eyes away and mouthed, "Gavriil. I've been looking for you since the beginning of the day. Zhora has probably already told you… and you can see for yourself. Work is just not going well today… Pardon the pun, but that's just the way it is." He sighed heavily: "Gabriel, I hear your team is cleaning twenty-four tons today…"