Homo Ludus
Vladimir Anderson
The faceless God of Memory is so humble that no one knows his name. The god of war, Huitzilopochtli, is so tired of war that all he does is seek peace. The goddess Kitsune, who received so many masks of other people that she forgot her own face. The gods are not perfect, but they are still gods, and they rule over people. And, of course, they share this world among themselves. The action-packed philosophical novel “Homo ludus” reveals complex issues of human awareness in the modern world and man’s relationship to himself as an independent person. "Homo ludus" by V. Anderson is our answer to "A Song of Ice and Fire" by J. Martin and "American Gods" by N. Gaiman.
Vladimir Anderson
Homo Ludus
Prologue
Daikoku, the god of happiness, for the first time in his entire life, found himself in a country where people were unhappy and happy to suffer in their lifetime, hoping to get what they wanted after death. This was very strange to Daikoku. In his native Japan, people knew that they were not entitled to happiness, but they also knew that some people did get it. Yet Daikoku himself was always walking around frowning disgruntled and miserable. No one should know how much happiness all people have now. After all, there is no more expensive item, and everyone will want to take it. And everyone will want more. And then he would need so many resources that he never possessed… That is why the god of happiness was known as the greediest of all gods.
But in the bag of magic rice he carried on his shoulders there was an old and wise rat, the main symbol of wealth. And it was this rat that gnawed holes in the bag of rice. And the rice fell to the ground, bringing people happiness they thought they didn't deserve. And no one but the rat and Daikoku himself knew that not a single hole had been chewed by accident, and not a single rice had accidentally fallen – all the people who received the magic rice had been chosen in advance and very carefully. And not because of how much happiness they deserved, but because of how much they were ready to preserve that happiness.
And among Krakozhia's people, Daikoku saw very few people who wanted to be happy, and even fewer who were willing to cherish their happiness. But what surprised him most of all was that the tiny fraction that had happiness was soon to lose it as well. Such things Daikoku knew in advance of all the gods. Because he had seen how much happiness people would lose. Because happiness was easier to lose than anything else.
Gustav
Gustav was almost a thousand and fifteen hundred years old, and in all his life he had never seen the likes of him living so long, and living off the misery of others.
He was born in Ireland, where the local people were once called Celts and worshipped the goddess Danu, the ancestor of the gods who ruled the island. He did not like the religion, where the people who believed in it did not believe in love as something omnipotent, but rather just considered it one of the manifestations of human feelings.
At first, Gustav killed more out of necessity than out of pleasure, and did not even feel that there was anything special about it. But centuries passed, and Christianity appeared, and then its offshoots, in the form of Lutheranism, and, most importantly, Calvinism, a branch of Protestantism in which God's main purpose was to glorify him. In Calvinism, God was not good and was not going to save everyone from the hyena of fire, He initially determined who is chosen and deserves the right to rule, and who is insignificant and must suffer misfortune and humiliation, and everything that happens, it is only then to glorify His great Will and Might. The chosen ones fulfill this Will.
Gustavus considered himself such a chosen one, following Calvin's tenets while exterminating anyone he could deem worthless.
When this movement was still in its infancy, Gustav traveled to Switzerland, took part in the trials of "heretics" (and who is a heretic, defined no longer the Catholic Church, but Jean Calvin), who were still burned at the stake, but for the exact opposite thoughts.
Gustav did not like to burn, but to talk to the condemned, to give them hope, even if it did not matter what it was – maybe understanding or sympathy, that life had not been in vain – and then to take away that hope by secretly reproaching them and making them feel guilty, thus draining them of life even before their death agony in the smoke from the fire. He likedthis game of good and truthful much better than the simple accusations of dissent and spiritual error, the purpose of which was simply to consolidate the new anti-papal power and the new power's self-consciousness of its success in a single country.
Gustav thought that even these new inquisitors did not fully understand the significance of their position. They only wanted to accuse someone and condemn him, thus showing their power, not realizing that the man, while dying, realized that he was right and pure before everyone and, above all, before himself. But to squeeze all the juices out of him, to confuse him and force him to die in despair from the hopelessness and emptiness of his life – this is what Gustav wanted, and this is what he achieved.
Soon, disillusioned with Calvin himself, he only became more convinced of his ideas, supplementing and reinforcing them. "Children are filth," Calvin said; the vampire disagreed: "Children are not filth, they are a gift. They are one of the sweetest gifts that can be given to a man along with indescribable joy, only to be taken away and given to the same man to cause him even more indescribable and impossible suffering and to drive him mad with his own newfound emptiness.
Gustav had an appointment with a new acquaintance today. Her name was Catherine. Her father was a French diplomat, so she had spent her entire childhood in a semi-closed boarding school where half the children didn't speak Russian. As an adult, Catherine began writing, and now several magazines in the capital published her articles about family, children and dogs. The latter was her favorite, and she loved dogs of all kinds, and, above all, for their real and sincere love for their master. So far she had raised only one short-haired dachshund, but in the future she wanted several more. She didn't know whether it was fear of responsibility for another living creature or indecision in choosing a second breed – there were many reasons, but in fact she just didn't dare to do it. This trait was very strong in her character – she was always afraid of making mistakes, and, apparently, because there were few mistakes in her life; there was no place to make them in vain. Her father was always there to make sure that her life was always full of the right choices.
This Saturday she was invited to lunch by a new acquaintance who had given her a wonderful interview the week before last on the subject of raising and training Labradors. She liked Gustav not only for his distinctive Western European appearance and courteous manner, but also for his amazing knowledge of dogs in general and Labradors in particular. She had never heard so many new and interesting things in one conversation, and the editor-in-chief had already decided to put the article in the center column of the next issue. In addition to all this, Kathryn was fascinated by Gustav's lively and radiant attitude to life, which she thought he was beginning to imbue her with.
She was the first to arrive. She sat down at the end table and ordered a glass of water. Right now she was most worried about her shoes. All week she had been thinking about what she would wear for this meeting: a long, tight light blue dress with a small neckline and covered shoulders, the silk so thin and tight that the patterns on her bra could be seen from the cleavage, and sheer stockings that made her look stunning. She had done her hair in the morning so that she could look at the curls of her long black hair before she went out. Everything was flawless, but the shoes, turquoise high-heeled shoes, perfect in this case, slightly in need of repair. Catherine rarely wore them because of the very thin stilettos, and the last time she'd walked into a crack in the sidewalk, which had caused her to fall into a crack in her shoes.
the stiletto began to stagger, and when it was destined to fall off one could only guess.
It was too late to change again, so she just went out early, so that she could walk to the car and get to the cafе.
Now, as she waited, the water seemed like some kind of soothing drink. The water moistened her throat, cooled her a little, gave her patience.
Gustav showed up. Tall, handsome. He wore a suit and a red silk shirt that suited him strikingly, with little buttons that looked like magic rubies from foreign fairy tales. He was radiant.
"Hi," Catherine smiled and stood up for some reason. Her chest was tightening, and her heart was already pounding so hard it felt like it was going to come out of her ears.
"Hello, Katherine," Gustav's voice was confident, and his welcoming eyes seemed to be able to calm even a half-stricken, hungry lion that had just defeated a pack of hyenas. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently, noticing that the girl was numb.
"Will you sit down?" – Gustav smiled. – Get it right, there's no truth in feet, of course, but I just can't sit down before you."
"Ah, yes," Catherine laughed lightly, immediately sitting down and placing her palms together straight in front of her, holding the edge of the table with her thumbs.
"Been waiting for me long?"
"Well, how long ago… a couple minutes." – Her right hand absentmindedly flicked a lock of hair off her shoulder and down onto the table. Her right foot, which was wearing that same half-broken stiletto, lifted slightly at the heel and after a centimeter to her right went back to the floor.
"You know, I kept worrying I'd be late and make you wait."
"Uh, no. What are you. I almost just got here." – replied the girl, and then involuntarily glanced at the table. On it stood three empty water glasses, smudged a hundred times and on all sides by fingers and with lipstick marks on the edges. "What a fool! – she thought. – Now he'll think that I'm either lying or drinking water like a camel… And then there's that hairpin… I've already beaten off half a spit trying to get it to fit. I can't believe I forgot about that. Lipstick, too. Half of it's still on the glasses. It's so cheap. I must have wiped it off my lips. What am I supposed to do, make up in front of him?!"
"How's your article? Is it all right?" – Gustav asked. His whole appearance showed that everything was fine, and his every word was filled with calmness and confidence.
Catherine smiled, "That's all right… In fact, the editor was thrilled. They've decided to put it in the main section in the next issue… I've never met anyone who could tell me so much about anything in such an interesting way. How do you know so much about dogs?"
Gustav smiled back, squinting his eyes slightly. It looked very beautiful and appealing. It was as if he were sharing sunlight and warmth in a gloomy ice cave with people who had forgotten what joy was.
"Kathryn, it's a long story… But, you know, in a nutshell… A few years ago I was living in Canada, near Montreal. I had a small house right next to a forest, and right next to me a canine center. One night I couldn't sleep. I don't know why. I just couldn't sleep. I thought, well, I'll just go for a walk. Get some fresh air. It's better than just lying in bed… I got dressed, went out. And then I hear some yapping. I see a puppy. It's just a little puppy. It's lying on my fence. A Labrador puppy. It's a little girl, pale-colored. Apparently, ran away from this center… But I could not give him, or rather her, of course… But I had to go to them for advice all the time. And the specialists there turned out to be, you know, what kind. I've been doing it ever since.
The girl listened to him with her mouth open. It was so pleasant to realize that it had happened by happy fate. That it was by chance that a man had become engaged in the work that was really meant for him. And that this chance had finally brought her and him together.
"Where's that dog now?"
"Catherine. With me, of course she is. Where else… Oh, and I have a favor to ask of you…"
The phone rang.
The girl frantically reached for her purse. Halfway through the contents, she finally remembered that her cell phone was in a separate pocket. Talking would be unnecessary, but it was her father.
They began to speak, of course, in French. Catherine thought it was possible to make it an advantage, naively believing that Gustav did not know this language – in fact, she only helped to dig her own grave.
"Well now...... – thought Gustav. – You talk to your daddy and you'll get a little Trojan dog… Dream on. You've found the love of your life… You have no idea what you really deserve for what you've done. I'm sure you won't be thinking about the stiletto on your right shoe… You're so sweet looking, you've blown a lot of people away; it's a pity you can't call them to watch your finale – it would be much more effective… I'd do your father separately, but he's not worth my time. Such a beauty, he probably considers one of his main achievements in life: neither breasts, nor lips, nor anything else operated on – they are real. I would have noticed a fake right away…".
As if she felt a mental demand to hang up the phone and, telling her father that she was in a cafe with a guy she was madly in love with, and with whom she seemed to have already fallen in love, she turned the phone off completely. "It was daddy who called. – The girl spoke in an apologetic tone. – I told him I was with my friends. So he wouldn't ask too many questions right now. He knows my friends, they don't like to wait for someone."
"What kind of woman likes to wait." – replied Gustave, and thought. – "Why are you lying out of your ass? You could have just said you were in a cafе and busy. How many people think that lying makes the truth more convincing… Just ask about the request, and I'll be done with you for today.
"Yeah. You're right. I guess not at all… What did you say about asking?"
"Ah yes. Thank you for reminding me. That request doesn't like to wait either. She's in the car." – Gustav stood up and extended his hand palm upward to the girl. After a stage pause, Kathryn squeezed his hand in hers, stood up and met his eyes quite closely, no longer smiling. She had never felt so calm and good in her life.
"I deserve this man. – Catherine mentally decided. – All my life, I've had nothing but wusses, and nothing works out. It's all about him. I want him in my life. He'll be mine."
Throwing two large bills of money on the table, Gustav touched the girl's waist with the words "let's go" and directed her towards the exit and himself followed.
A little away from the exit, in the yard, was his huge black Cadillac Escalate. When he got behind the car, he opened the trunk, and there in a small animal bag was a small, dark-as-night Labrador, less than a month old.
"What a miracle! – Catherine whispered emotionally, covering her mouth with her palms.
"Yeah. He's three weeks old. He was the last of the five to come out. You could say he's my youngest grandchild. And, to tell the truth, probably the most favorite… I gave away the others to friends who had been asking for a puppy for a long time, and I decided to keep my favorite one. But now I'm on a business trip, and someone has to look after him. You can take care of him, right? It's only 7 days while I'm away.
"Well I have no words. He's so adorable. Are you kidding me? He's so adorable."
"Am I really going to tease you, Catherine. Of course I mean it. You would be doing me a great favor."
"What are you! Of course I agree! How can you refuse him!" – It seemed to her already that this was the happiest day of her life.
"Thank you, Catherine. I wouldn't have time for him at all right now. Too much work while I'm away."
Gustav offered to drive her home, and she agreed. Even though she would have to go separately to get her car, which was parked across the street from the cafе. It was important to her that she didn't come home alone that day.
During the ride, he told her about his time in Africa, in Zanzibar, about the local customs, and what the island was now, and that if the opportunity arose, it would be possible to go there.
Gustav was actually there in 1896. He managed to persuade Bargash, the local ruler, to come into conflict with the British Empire. He himself had long wanted something more, but his remaining intelligence had kept him from doing so until his weakness had been found.
"Look at what you're leaving behind. – "Gustav kept telling him. – You need power. Seize it, then expand it, and we'll help you with that… You know the whole point of an inheritance. What will you leave to your children?"
Bargash was only the Sultan's brother and had no right to the throne, and that suited him fine, but he had a favorite son, who was only two years old, but was worthy of much more than doing someone's bidding.
Realizing that Bargash would wait for his brother's natural death, Gustav poisoned him himself, and on the appointed day a coup took place, supposedly supported by the German Empire.
The British squadron stood in the roadstead off the coast, knowing full well what to do – Gustavus told them that if they had to fight, let them fire on the palace on the north-east side, the new heir would be there, killing him would avoid many casualties, as he was the only thing important to the new Sultan. The second volley buried the imaginary reason for war – the little boy was dead, and Bargash, having lost the most precious thing in the world, never recovered. Everything he had dreamed of was gone in 387 minutes of the shortest war in human history.
Gustav had several new estates in England and a disproportionately greater pleasure in his own importance and significance in life. He would not remember it now and would not tell Catherine about the beauty of the island of Zanzibar and its sultan's palace, but he wanted to enjoy inwardly again the abilities of the poison, which he poisoned the real sultan – no color, no smell, no symptoms after taking it; the man died simply in sleep, ceasing to breathe, and the time was easy to set the number of drops according to the weight of the victim. "A gift to the Sultan" was the name he gave to the substance.
***
Gustav wasn't in a hurry to get this meeting over with for nothing. Then he had another.
Semi-officially, he was advising the owner of a real estate company, Mienkom, and today he had to oversee one very important policy change for that company. The fact is that this organization, despite its popularity in the capital, practically did not pay taxes – most of the income was derived from the hidden margin (the seller gave his object for the amount of N, and the buyer took it for N + Y, being absolutely sure that it is just N, and Y simply kept Mienkom), and most of the employees were not even officially employed in the organization.
Gustav, who introduced himself as the chief analyst of the American real estate broker BlackStone, had the task of increasing Mienkom's market share and solving the tax issue at the same time. The plan was already in place; all that was left was to give out some advice.
"Greetings," Vladimir Arkadyevich, Mienkom's "chief of chiefs," shook hands with the newly contracted new development consultant. Obese, massive, with rich experience, he was far from delighted that this handsome man had to pay 15 thousand dollars a week for 2-3 appearances in the office, but the few recommendations he had managed to give had already had an effect, and this on the one hand, of course, pleased, but on the other hand very alarming. He had seen enough in his life and he wouldn't say it had ever been easy: once he was a shop manager at a regional woodworking plant, then he became deputy director, then he got a place as head of the city executive committee of one of the cities of this region, and after 1991 he got a controlling stake in the plant, where he used to be a shop manager, then, persistently developing in business in the 90s, he became a member of the board of directors of Mienkom, and having come such a long way, he saw in Gustav, who looked 30 years younger than him, a man whose insight and foresight seemed much greater than his own. It was dangerous. He remembered well how he had dealt with those who were less farsighted than he. How he had ruined those people's fates, framed them and sent them to prison or to feed the fish. His entire road of success, strewn with corpses and other people's grief, strangely enough not only gave him complete peace at night, but most importantly, kept him sane in the light of day. He realized well that he could be deceived in words, but never in calculations. Numbers will always tell the truth, you just have to know how to calculate correctly. And check your own calculations. "If you relax, you'll be eaten up by strangers. If you trust your own people, you won't even notice that you've been eaten" – that's what he thought long ago, when he took the owner's place. All these rules applied to people like him. He didn't know what to do with the stronger and smarter ones – for the time being he negotiated in such cases. But all these cases concerned people who had already lived their lives and had long ago lost their irrepressible thirst for profit. He had never done business with a strong, intelligent and yet young man. That was what frightened him about Gustav.
