Time became an eternal shepherd, always pushing forward. And while for the Ephors, time flowed steadily and clearly, for both people and guides, it was chaotic and unpredictable.
Libby recalled how Constantin’s watch had fallen off his wrist. The treacherous strap had lost its strength, just like his patience. But in that moment, it was so clear that he didn’t need to glance at his wrist, searching for an excuse to relax artificially or to find that precious free hour. After all, people who move toward their goals at a leisurely pace are always beautiful; it’s all about dignity.
“Looking at the clock is just a pleasant way to kill time,” wrote a famous author.
And it’s no wonder. His guide was also Kallidus, who infused him with inspiration but couldn’t keep up with the frantic pace of time.
Libby realized this when Constantin picked up his wristwatch from the floor. The tear in the strap mirrored his internal struggle. For a moment, harmony was restored. Even in his workshop, the clock on the wall began to tick chaotically. It had every right to do so.
Right now, Elizabeth had as much time as the rationality of her charge allowed. And every minute was priceless.
* * *
She stood nearby, just far enough to avoid hearing their conversation, but close enough to feel the vibrations from her charge. She had been trained to quickly make contact with Ephors, but they hadn’t taught her delicacy. This made things difficult for Kallidus. She constantly felt the urge to eavesdrop, to understand why her charge's aura began to glow every time he saw Sophia.
Although Libby already knew the answer, it was one that disheartened her. It was jealousy, like a sister’s toward a brother, as if she were visible – and Constantin could “trade” her away. Silly.
Trying to keep herself together, Libby turned away from the couple. The feeling of being the third wheel wouldn’t leave her. But that was the job of a Guide: You can look, but you can’t touch. Like being in a zoo.
Her attention shifted to the couple with ice cream. More specifically, to their Guides. It was always amusing to observe how complete energetic opposites were forced to interact for the common good, nurturing certain skills in their charges.
Her gaze involuntarily drifted to Lombask. Throughout their time here, he had never once relaxed his posture. While Nomadum constantly lounged, throwing his legs on the table and sprawling in the chair next to his charge, Lombask stood behind his "pet" like a bodyguard.
As if hearing Elizabeth's thoughts, Lombask turned his head in her direction.
Libby’s breath caught in her throat, and heat rushed through her body.
“If you want to ask something, please don’t hesitate,” Lombask said in a tone of complete indifference. “Otherwise, it’s inappropriate.”
“Oh, colleague!” Nomadum beamed, shaking his long dreadlocks. “Come join us.”
“Hello, my name is Elizabeth,” the guide said, stepping closer. Time was pressing – Sophia and Constantin were about to leave.
“I’m Alan,” Nomadum exclaimed warmly.
“Kiraz,” Lombask replied tersely, not looking up from his notebook.
“How long have you two been a duo?” Libby asked with a smirk, trying not to stare too intensely at Kiraz.
“Just made a comment too,” she thought.
“A couple of months-s,” Alan replied. “My stony friend and I are trying to combine the incompatible. To grant his charge a sens-se of sensuality that he lacks.”
“To give him communication skills with dreamy girls, to be precise. That’s far from sensuality, but it’s a good lesson in how not to lose your cool,” Lombask noted something in his notebook and snapped it shut.
“S-sorry, Mr. Stiff,” Nomadum laughed. “It doesn’t take much effort for your charge to lose his cool. Jus-st one unnoticed success at work, and suddenly papers are flying off the des-sk.”
“Apparently, the guy is more sensitive than you might think,” Libby laughed, addressing Alan, but she stopped when Kiraz shot her a reproachful look.
“Shouldn’t you be attending to your charge?” he asked in a parental tone.
“Of course. I just came over to say hello,” Elizabeth nodded.
“You shouldn’t leave him unattended for too long, even if he has an Ephor with him.”
“Aha, s-so that’s where I’ve s-seen that lady,” Alan chuckled. “Now it makes s-sense! You’re the Guide whose oddball started remembering everyt-thing?”
Libby felt uneasy at his words. Her cheeks betrayed her, turning a deep crimson.
“There’s a possibility,” she muttered.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Kiraz said, and even Alan opened his mouth in shock, sticking out his long tongue. “The Community cannot guarantee a hundred percent result. There are always unforeseen circumstances. Ultimately, our job is to solve problems as they arise.”
He looked at his charge, and Libby thought she saw him clench his teeth.
Maybe Lombasks aren’t as impenetrable as she thought.
“Well, it was nice to meet you. Maybe we’ll see each other again,” the Guide nodded kindly.
“That would be nice, Elizabeth,” Alan waved, once again propping his feet up on the table.
“The probability is extremely low,” Kiraz stated.
Libby took one last look at his perfect, textured face and made her way back to Constantin, swaying her hips. All she could do was hope that Lombask would appreciate her sensual, bare-footed walk.
Chapter 6
Sophia lay on the bed, listening to the silence around her. Ever since she was assigned to Constantin, her thoughts had become her only companions in the dark. Ephors had no need for sleep or food to sustain themselves; human vices did not affect them. But she enjoyed simulating an ordinary human life, adjusting her daily routine to the schedule of mortals. There was a special atmosphere in this, even if everything seemed like a monochrome harmony of the mundane.
A mundanity in which guides added colorful hues, filling people’s lives with diverse meaning. But the Ephors saw this as a waste of energy.
“Although Libby seems to have gone overboard with the colors,” Sophia thought.
Through the partially open window, the distant rustle of passing dogs and the faint whisper of branches from the shrubs growing beneath it could be heard.
The Ephor's room had turned into an archive. Glancing around, Sophia realized how many attempts had been made to find the right thread, how much material had been studied.
Gracefully tiptoeing, like a cat, over the neat rows of documents with notes and action plans spread out on the floor, she stepped onto the balcony. Lighting another cigarette, she gazed into the emptiness of the street. Sophia didn’t know what she expected to see. The dim streetlamp attracted moths and gnats, and she watched them as if entranced. Their countless attempts to approach the heated light amused the Ephor. The moths, unable to realize the futility of their efforts, could not stop.
“Just like people,” an indifferent thought flashed through her mind.
In the distance, the roar of an engine could be heard; night races were starting on the highway. Every night, they took to the empty road to test themselves and their iron companions. Sometimes it ended tragically, with the news filled with depressing headlines, but the girl understood that it was nothing more than another task completed for the guide, and a new level of development for the soul.
Sophia recalled the meeting on the embankment. While gathering information about Constantin at the clinic, she had studied his visitors. She learned that Max was one of Van's few regular guests.
This plump jester, along with his guide Kanis, served as a kind of support for his friend. To some extent, he acted as an anchor for Constantin's unstable balance of memories. That was why she had discreetly asked Kanis to direct her charge toward a friendly gathering. Constantin and his friends were supposed to meet there, so Sophia had chosen a nearby bench in advance, ensuring Constantin would notice her in time. The Ephor needed to remind him of her presence and get a look at Libby. Only by observing her could Sophia gauge the true state of her charge.
And when she noticed how frightened the once-cheerful redhead had become, Sophia realized that Constantin was not getting better.
Now, reflecting on the subtleties of earthly life, she realized that she hadn’t watered her plant in a long time. Once, Sophia had seen her neighbor growing flowers on her balcony and decided to try it herself. She planted an avocado. It grew quickly, and the seed’s positive drive for life helped her adopt the right mindset.
Growing it in a glass jar filled with water and small river stones at the bottom, she found the process quite symbolic. The root stretched downward, while life simultaneously emerged from above. Could it be said that people, like the avocado root, make mistakes, sink to the bottom, yet continue to survive and sprout bright green leaves?
"What am I to do with you, Van…" Sophia thought.
The conversation with Elizabeth in the restroom left Ephor in a daze. She had examined all of Constantin’s lives, right up to the present day, and found nothing suspicious. There were no signs that he would begin experiencing such vivid flashbacks of his past life. Yet, given the circumstances, it was clear that some detail had been overlooked.
After extinguishing her cigarette on the wrought-iron balcony railing, Sophia returned to the room, clutching a stack of colorful sticky notes.
"Maybe if I visually assemble a map of his lives on the wall, I'll notice the missing detail… No, it would just make more of a mess."
She set the sticky notes aside and picked up another stack of blank paper.
* * *
With the arrival of morning, the scene in the apartment hadn’t changed. The box of documents had only grown larger, and the ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts. It was time to admit that her attempts to cope on her own hadn’t been successful. She needed to gather information from her colleagues.
Quickly getting ready, Sophia pulled a black cap over her eyes and headed to the clinic. Life within the walls of the "Sleeping Dolphin" was already bubbling like water boiling in a kettle, in stark contrast to the name of the establishment.
Every minute of the Ephor's day was scheduled. Each employee played their role with responsibility. For example, some escorted patients to the library, where they could read their favorite works, complete with pre-made edits in the texts. This alternative branch of events, inserted into a previously familiar story, helped the individual reconstruct their memory.
Thus, distracting him from the "discovered" memories.
Other Ephors guided their patients to the healing spring, where belladonna had been carefully added to the water. The sleep grass not only justified the ironic name of the clinic but also helped people dream less. Dreams acted as a binocular lens to past lives, and patients couldn’t be allowed to view them until that lens became cloudy once more.
In the garden, apple trees grew, their fruits containing amalfin. The Ephors had developed this poison to spray on the tree fruits in small doses, adding it to food as well. Once amalfin entered the body, it caused the person to think more slowly. Gradually affecting the hippocampus, the poison had a narcotic effect, and the patient would forget the very reason they had been urgently admitted to the clinic.
However, there were cases when patients did not respond to treatment. They often returned to the clinic and began to pose a threat to the Higher Realm.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «Литрес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/pages/biblio_book/?art=71345572&lfrom=174836202&ffile=1) на Литрес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
