Altera general fee. Alterra

Oleg Kazakov

Alterra. Hike

* * *

Instead of a prologue

A lonely yacht moved uncertainly along the narrow bay... Thus, on Alterra, a new life began for the captain of the yacht, who became the Commander and leader of a small settlement of people who ended up here. After a sudden overnight storm and unusual aurora, a handful of people find themselves stranded in an unknown area. It seemed like everything was the same as before, but instead of a city, there were ruins on the coast, overgrown with dense forest. It seems that the coastline has not changed, but on the island in the middle of the strait there is no longer a majestic medieval castle, but a half-crumbled main tower. The commander, who was the first to understand the danger threatening people, organized a gathering of survivors and was forced to take command of the new colony. A lighthouse was built on the castle tower, to the light of which those lost in the forests gathered. Gradually the understanding came that this planet was not Earth. An alien starry sky, two moons, days that do not coincide with the usual cycle, an unusually mild, warm climate.

In addition, it turned out that fragments of several worlds alternative to each other were mixed here. The colonists were surprised to learn that among them there were citizens of the Russian Federation, the Soviet Union and even the Russian Empire. But common adversities, a common language for everyone and the strong will of the leadership led by the Commander did not allow people to scatter to different camps. Then they all had to live and survive together. Having formed a scout team from a group of teenagers, the Commander organized ground reconnaissance, which not only studied the surrounding area, but also looked for other settlements. A yacht of students from the lost capital of the Russian Empire mapped the coastlines, discovering new lands. After analyzing the situation, the colonists came to the “drop theory”, according to which large pieces of the Earth’s territory somehow “fell” onto the new planet, and then, after several centuries, smaller “splashes” were sucked there: plants, people, small buildings. The destroyed city on the shore got here first and managed to crumble and become covered with dense forest before the first people saw it. How many “drops” were there and will they continue to fall? There was no answer to this question. The commander, who took responsibility for the colony, was more worried about how they would survive the first winter; the townspeople, accustomed to hot water and the Internet, were little adapted to life in the countryside without communications and electricity.

The population of the colony gradually grew, new “drops” were found: a cargo ship filled with fertilizers and thrown ashore during a shipwreck, a farmstead lost in the forest, where a former policeman organized his small state, a distant border outpost, from where a small military detachment came to the former city. All of them, peacefully or in battle, had to be annexed to the Commander’s possessions. The short months of late summer and autumn passed quickly, just allowing us to settle in and prepare for the beginning of winter, when a new attack occurred. A remote village near the steamship was attacked.

A lone catamaran with a strike group moved uncertainly along the narrow bay...

The steamer still lay like a huge block on the shore. Several barracks with flat roofs appeared on land behind the stern. The water receded a little, and the side of the ship became a little higher, but the combat group easily moved to the deck of the half-submerged bow. They were already met on board. The Admiral immediately began accommodating the new arrivals.

- How are you doing here? – the Commander shouted.

“Yes, quietly,” they answered from the deck, “there is smoke from the fire, there they are standing.” They don’t leave, but they don’t bother us either...

“Well, let’s set sail,” the Commander commanded when the soldiers got off the ship, and the senior man at the fishermen’s base moved onto the catamaran. - Let's see what kind of strange raiders are... And what kind of new personnel have appeared here?

“Yes, a strange guy,” the elder above the fishermen began to tell, “he swam along the shore from the south, and these people followed him along the shore, apparently waiting for him to land.” The steamer is tilted to starboard, the left side, which is on the south side, is higher. The man in the boat first wanted to land on the shore, when he noticed us, it was then that this crowd jumped out of the forest. He came towards us, went around the ship, we dragged him on board... And these guys are already running along the shore, some in a quilted jacket, some wrapped in skins, clubs in their hands, some with an axe. And they immediately climbed on board. We from above let's fight back, some were pushed off with a hook, some were knocked down with a crowbar, the men came running from the barracks. So the strangers left as best they could. But then one came from them. He shouted loudly for us to give him back on the boat. And he doesn’t say anything: I need to talk to your superiors, like some important news... We locked him in a cabin for now, without a porthole. Let him sit.

- Yes this is correct. Let's figure out what the news is...

Somewhere a kilometer from the ship, a small but turbulent stream flowed into the sea. Just before the shore, he cut through a low hill and ran down the rocks. Beyond this stream, in the depths of a small cape overgrown with bushes and trees, smoke from the fires could be seen. But it was not possible to swim to the shore. The catamaran had not yet approached the coastal boulders when dark figures of people appeared between the bushes and stones. The commander looked through his binoculars. Indeed, the sight was strange. Padded jackets and hats with ear flaps, shaggy skins and knotty thick clubs, some rags instead of boots, dry faces with cheeks sunken from malnutrition, covered with many days of stubble... They stood silently, looking at the little boat: who brought this?.. Meanwhile, the catamaran was approaching the shore.

- Guys, what kind of confusion is this? We should talk! – the Commander shouted.

The sound of some inaudible command came from the shore, and stones were thrown at the fishermen.

- Row back! – the Commander shouted, snatching an ax from his belt, the only thing he could use to try to fight off the flying boulders. The blacksmiths never made any shields, and there was nothing to cover themselves with.

Someone had already fallen on the deck, hit by a large stone, and dropped the oar. And a three-legged “cat” was flying from the shore, pulling behind it a rope bent in an arc. The commander jumped to the side, and one of the iron paws dug deep into the deck. A rope loop fell nearby, and they immediately began to pick it up from the shore. While the rope was not stretched, the Commander chopped at the loop, but it was not possible to cut it the first time; nevertheless, the ax was not so sharp and several fibers remained intact. But they pulled from the shore, and the rope stretched and broke. It was visible how people rolled head over heels between the stones. The catamaran was sailing, but too slowly. A hail of stones could knock out rowers who had no way to dodge.

- Sanka, scare the guests! - the Commander ordered, beating off another boulder with his shaft.

Oleg Kazakov

Alterra. General fee

* * *

A lone yacht moved uncertainly along the narrow bay. The weekend was not a success. The summer vacation, which for the first time in many years was able to fit into a busy work schedule, and the dream come true of any resident of a seaside town - buying his own, albeit not ocean-going, but pleasure yacht - were overshadowed on the very first day by a sudden storm. The yacht had to be hidden between two small islands, but it was rocking so hard that even the thought of mooring to the shore did not arise. By morning the wind weakened and the rolling almost stopped, but the captain, exhausted by a sleepless night, did not even think of staying at sea. Home, just home. The feeling he experienced after leaving the narrow strait between the islands was similar to shock. There was no need to pick up the jaw from the deck; the crew of one person always has something to do while sailing, but the view of the shores, opening in the rays of the rising sun, was amazing. It seemed that all the navigational signs were washed away by the wave, torn from their places or blown away by the wind. The banks, opening up as the morning fog receded, seemed more overgrown with forest than it was yesterday, and the signs of civilization - numerous cottages, factory chimneys, port cranes - disappeared without a trace. Here and there columns of smoke could be seen, but they were more likely the fires of fishermen and tourists, of whom there were always plenty on the bay in the summer. Apparently, they have not yet noticed the changes that have occurred.

The yacht with the proud name “Unsurpassed” slowly made its way along the now unfamiliar fairway. The bay was previously replete with shoals and rocks hiding under the water, but now, in the absence of reliable signs, it has become many times more dangerous for navigation. The outlines of the coast were generally preserved, but it was pointless to check the map. Many small islands disappeared, but new ones appeared in their place. On one of the flat stones, barely protruding from the water, several long and shiny animals with flippers instead of front paws and fused hind paws that looked like a fish tail were basking in the sun. One of the animals raised his head and lazily looked around at the yacht passing by. Baltic seals! No one has seen them in the bay for twenty years! The captain experienced another shock when he passed the last turn before the city. Instead of the familiar line of the port, gentle hills rose along the shore, overgrown with wild grass. The white castle tower, covered with a semicircular dome and visible tens of kilometers away, has disappeared. There was no Clock Tower, which stood on the highest hill in the city, and the city area itself turned out to be overgrown with old forest. The captain became scared. The closer he swam to what had been his hometown just yesterday, the worse he felt. Family, interesting work, friends, an ever-breaking car, yacht club berths - all this remains a thing of yesterday. The unknown lay ahead.

The castle island still remains. The castle itself became a brown pile of ruins, but the main tower, as before, rising forty meters up, remained. The whitewash and plaster had long since peeled off, the dome was most likely rotten and collapsed, but the walls stood. What will they have, five meters thick... But what happened to the city? The walls of the main building have been partially preserved, but all the buildings and walls along the perimeter of the island have turned into piles of stones overgrown with trees and bushes. How many years does it take for an inhabited area to become so wild? What happened at night, time transfer? But where are all the people, where has civilization gone? There were no answers. The castle, or rather its ruins, were the only familiar landmark in this new and unexplored world. The yacht moored to the remains of an old stone dam that previously extended from the island and connected the castle with the Fortress Bridge, which crosses the entire strait. Now there was no bridge, not even concrete blocks were visible under the surface of the water. Looks like concrete doesn't last that long...

The courtyard, once paved with paving stones and spiraling up the hill towards the main tower, is overgrown with grass. In some places the old stone was broken through by trees. Silence, birdsong, the whistle of the wind and ancient ruins are all that remains of a thriving regional center on the border of the country.

- Hey, on the island!

The captain ran ashore. A large two-masted yacht was coming from the sea. Several people stood on board, someone was filming the surroundings with a camera. The yacht docked next to the Unsurpassed. People began to go ashore. A young tall man in a vest approached the captain.

- Andrey.

-What happened here? We were sailing from St. Petersburg, yesterday evening we entered the bay, received a storm warning on the radio, and anchored. This morning we can’t find out anything...

– Can you hear anything on the radio?

- Silence, just a crackling sound. So what happened?

- It seems that I am now the only resident of this area.

– So you became the local mayor, funny. Let me then temporarily join under your banners; perhaps we will need help until the rescuers arrive.

- More like the governor. I'm afraid there is no one left to save. Set up tents, if you have any, we'll sort it out. When did you leave St. Petersburg?

- Three days ago. This is not a steamship. We weren’t driving, there was nowhere to rush. We spent the night on the islands, the day before yesterday we met a border boat. We went

Prologue

As a result of an unknown cataclysm, fragments of the earth's surface, parts of cities and several groups of people are thrown into a new world, fortunately suitable for habitation. The process stretches over centuries, and the earth's flora and fauna spread, defeating local life forms, traces of civilization are quickly destroyed, and the people who came last get the wild planet. A small tribe gathers around the ruins of an old castle and establishes a colony. It also turns out that the aliens come from several parallel worlds, the general level of development of which was close, but differed in details. Having solved the primary task of survival, the colony begins to expand. The nature of the cataclysm that led to the transfer remains unknown...

From the diaries of Sanka Gogol

April 28, first year after arrival. Today a large detachment went to the ship. They are preparing for a campaign against St. Petersburg, gathering all their forces into a new fortress. And we are going north. The commander ordered to go to the Outpost, there to split into two groups and explore the northern coast. It's a shame, everyone is going to fight, but we are on the sidelines. But the Commander said: “War is war, but cartography is more important” and “You will fight again”... Who is there to fight with in the north, completely remote places?..

May 2. We reached the Outpost. Today we'll get some sleep, and tomorrow we'll hit the road. The immediate surroundings are roughly familiar to us, but no one knows what’s next yet. We take tents, some food, mostly crackers, dried meat, onions instead of vitamins. A couple of prefabricated double kayaks - just in case. The group that goes east must cross the river, and there, probably, the lakes will begin. And our group will go northwest, to the nearest shore, and then turn north.

May 10. We went to the coast. We set up camp. The trek through the forest was long and tiresome in its monotony. The forest is empty and cold, the grass is not yet growing, there are no leaves. Very dry, but freezing at night. There is ice on the sea along the coast in shady places. We’ll stay for a couple of days, see what’s around, and then go along the coast to the northeast.

12 May. We found on the shore a large, spacious bay with good access to land, nearby gentle hills, a stream, or rather a small river, an excellent place for some future village. They built a low pyramid of stones and put a note inside saying that we were here. Tomorrow we go further...

Part one
America will be great again... someday

Chapter 1
Joe the Indian Conqueror

A lone tanker plowed the ocean. The wild, Indian-torn former America was left behind, beyond the cloudy horizon. A storm was coming...

Life was getting better. And how sad it all began. After a terrible bump and several lightning strikes, the main part of the electronics failed, and the crazed aircraft, roaring with afterburning engines, began to gain altitude, accelerating more and more. The situation was desperate, the hull was cracking, threatening to fall into pieces any minute. The car rose above the cloud front and continued to rush upward. The overload pressed the crew into the backs of their seats. Joe turned his head with difficulty, trying to see at least one working screen on the dashboard. By some miracle, the navigator managed to turn on additional power, and some of the sensors came to life. The radar showed a complete mess, the altimeter went off scale at minus mark. The sky overhead was rapidly darkening, and the first stars appeared. “This is rubbish,” Joe thought. "Jump!" – he ordered the navigator. "I'll stay!" - came from the headset. "Ah well!" – Joe used the greatest achievement of Russian aviation – the navigator’s forced ejection button. “Your mother!” – came the last words of his partner through the interference. Having forcibly shot the navigator at a forty-kilometer altitude, while there was still some land below them, Joe tried to regain at least part of the control, rebooting the system over and over again. There was a smell of burnt insulation; the completely uncontrolled flight continued in a strictly straight line and climbed. Joe was about to jump, but a strip of bad weather remained behind him, and far below the sea appeared without end and edge. Falling into the water without a single chance of salvation was a bad idea, and Joe decided to wait for at least a small piece of land, albeit a small one, but an island, from where he could return for his partner. The jump from the stratosphere did not frighten him. But the engines did not calm down, burning out the last drops of fuel. Taking off like an unguided rocket, the aircraft exhausted its fuel reserves and began a slow fall, flying several kilometers in the horizontal direction every second. The overload disappeared, and Joe was finally able to work fully. “It’s a pity we didn’t go into orbit,” he thought, looking out at least some piece of land below, “so we could have returned back through the orbit...”

The car fell, sharply losing altitude in the dense layers of the atmosphere, the speed increased, the outer skin had already begun to burn and melt when the coast of the continent appeared. Joe began to look at him carefully, and he really didn’t like what he saw. The coastline quickly passed below behind a small ridge of hills and opened up an endless steppe ahead. Not a single city or inhabited settlement, only a few hundred riders on spotted horses. The heads of the riders were decorated with headbands with feathers. “Where are the Indians here from?” – Joe wondered, and then things took an unpleasant turn. The riders saw the falling car, enveloped in flames and leaving a trail of smoke, and rushed in pursuit. Joe still managed to notice that several horses were dragging two bodies behind them on ropes, beating against hummocks and stones. It is unlikely that these people were alive. I suddenly lost the desire to meet Indians.

The fall was hard, but Joe held on until the last minute, trying to hold the horizon and prevent the device from falling in the dive, and ejected in the last moments so as not to lose the crash site. When he was assembling the parachute, a hatch opened in the ground very close by, and two teenagers, an Asian girl and a Latino guy in a funny blue overalls, got out. This is how Joe met Bob and Lee, and he had to take them with him and hide from the persistent and persistent Indians for several weeks, making his way back to the coast. Having lost most of their supplies and weapons, the pilot and the teenagers found themselves on a raft in the middle of a river that flowed along the bottom of a deep gorge, an unusual crack in the ground in the middle of the Midwestern prairie...

“When will we get out of this canyon,” Joe grumbled. “The river is getting wider, the banks are getting lower, if the Indians are still on their heels, they will soon find a way to go down.” And if they also find boats, then we’re finished.

“There’s a lake or even a sea ahead,” Bob said, throwing a branch into the fire. – Today I saw a seagull, there were no birds before.

- Seagull? – asked Joe. - So the big water is close.

The next day they reached the sea coast. The banks of the canyon parted, and a surface of water opened up ahead. The raft was slowly dragged by the current of the wide-spread river.

- There's a sea there! – Lee shouted.

- Or maybe a big lake? – Bob doubted. – Is the water salty?

“The sea is good, let there be a sea,” Joe nodded, peering into the open spaces. – It remains to determine which direction this New York is in.

– Joe, there’s an island ahead, and there are some houses on it. – Lee pointed out to sea. - There is a city there, there must be people there.

Li turned out to be right, right opposite the mouth of the river, about a kilometer from the seashore, lay a long island. In the middle part it was completely overgrown with forest, but at the ends one could see numerous buildings or ruins remaining from the houses that had previously stood there. Here and there columns of smoke rose from the ruins, showing that the island was inhabited.

- What if there are Indians there? – Joe doubted.

“We don’t have much choice,” Li said. “We’ll stay on the shore - the horsemen will catch up with us.” Let's swim forward and get to the townspeople. We had never met Indians in cities before.

“That’s true,” Joe agreed. - And look, what kind of woman is there with a torch standing to the right of the island, on a separate rock?

- This is the Statue of Liberty! – Lee screamed with joy. - Joe, this is New York! But why are there so few skyscrapers? Probably everyone fell, like in other cities. And in the middle of the island was Central Park. See, there's a forest there!

- No no no! Bob finally woke up. - This can't be New York!

- Why? – Joe turned to the teenagers sitting at the stern of the fragile raft. - Bob, what are you doing? It's like you saw a ghost.

– This is not New York! – Bob shook his head, as if driving away an obsessive vision. – New York is a huge city, and this is some kind of small island.

- There's the Statue of Liberty there. This is Manhattan! – Li stubbornly tried to defend her innocence.

-Where are the skyscrapers? – Bob jumped up.

“There are two huge towers over there,” Joe pointed towards the island.

- You do not understand! They shouldn't exist! – Bob soared again. - These are the twin towers! They collapsed in two thousand and one!

Joe turned back to the teenagers.

“That means they appeared here before the collapse,” he decided. - Bob! Bob, wake up already! Row, our “friends” have appeared!

The first horsemen appeared at the top of the coastal hill. Noticing the prey floating out to sea, the Indians set off their horses, rushing down the slope with shouts and hooting, trying to reach the shore and cut off the raft from the sea.

Joe and Bob leaned on the oars. A small wave from the sea prevented them from rowing, but they managed to drive their craft away from the edge of the land. Behind them, several arrows fell into the water, and from the shore came the disappointed roar of the savages.

- Lee! Turn around to face the shore and grab your machine gun; if even one dog shoots, open fire! - Joe commanded. - Be careful, don’t turn the raft over!

Lee moved as carefully as she could and took aim at the shore. The raft slowly moved out into the sea, resting its nose against the small waves running towards it.

– It seems like we got away, we were lucky that the weather was good and there was almost no wind. If there was a surf, they’d kill themselves right in it,” Joe said. - Let's swim further. Bob, tell me what happened to those towers?

The Indians were still rushing along the edge of the water, but they could no longer reach the travelers. The island was slowly approaching, but was still too far away to see if there were people on it.

“They were hit by a plane,” Bob said. - That is, two planes. Terrorists. The whole country was in shock. First, the Arabs hijacked passenger planes and then flew them straight into skyscrapers. The first plane hit the upper floors of one of the towers, and a fire started. And then the second one crashed into a nearby building. They were the tallest in Manhattan. The fire melted metal supports and both skyscrapers collapsed.

- Were there explosives on the planes? – Joe decided to clarify.

- No, it doesn’t seem like it was...

“Then how could they collapse?” Kerosene burned on the upper floors, right? Look, both towers are standing. One has an oblique cut at the top, and it just looks like the top has slipped and fallen down. Along the plane's impact line, it's very similar. And on the second, only the corner at the top is knocked out, and not all the way to the roof. And both are standing there, what will happen to them? I may not be a very good engineer, but skyscrapers are built with a decent margin of safety, believe me, I know this for sure.

Bob was silent, not knowing what to answer. At first, the sight of Manhattan with the World Trade Center towers plunged him into a state of stupor, but he remembered the picture on TV and how these skyscrapers fell. The island itself, as if torn out in a whole piece from the city surrounding it on all sides, the missing New York, in the place of which there was now a sea, the Indians pursuing them on their heels, who had not given them rest for several weeks - all this looked like the most terrible nightmare. Lee pressed herself against Bob's back, and he calmed down a little.

- Joe! You never told us, and we are still on Earth? – he asked the pilot.

Joe, sitting on the bow of the raft, rowed smoothly and confidently. He turned his head a little so that he could be heard better:

- It was you who decided that this was Earth, I never said that. I am personally convinced that this is another planet. If you knew astronomy, you would also understand this on the first starry night. What surprises me more is that somehow you and these skyscrapers ended up here. This is not Earth, but I cannot understand how the remains of earthly cities and people got here. For me, this is an even more serious mystery than why collapsed skyscrapers stand.

“They were blown up,” Li said suddenly. – I read about this on the Internet. They blew it up so they wouldn't fall on neighboring houses.

- Even so? – Joe was surprised. - By their appearance, they were not going to fall... Oh, look, a boat is coming from the island!

It seemed that the islanders, having noticed movement on the shore and the fragile raft in the sea, decided to help the survivors or at least find out the reason for the fuss. A small harbor boat in blue and white police livery slowly approached the raft. Joe noted a smoking chimney sticking out at the stern - one of the local craftsmen had fitted a wood-burning gas generator to the boat. The speed of the boat dropped significantly, but it seemed no one was going to chase the criminals.

- Hey, on the raft! Who are they? - shouted a huge, shirtless black man who jumped on board, oh, excuse me, an African-American.

- Refugees, let's escape from the Indians! - Joe shouted back, trying to hold the raft rocking on the oncoming wave with an oar.

“As always,” said the black man. – Throw your things on the boat and get over yourself! Welcome to New York!

After loading, the boat turned around and headed towards the island. At the ends of the two surviving piers there were watchtowers, from where armed sentries watched the sea, and the passage to the mooring site was blocked by a wall built right in the water with a row of barbed wire on top. The boat whistled invitingly, and a piece of the wall slid to the side, opening the way.

Standing up against the wall, the boat puffed out smoke with relief and fell silent. The Negro sailor helped carry things to the pier and waved his hand towards the city:

– The sheriff’s office is just outside the port gates, they will meet you there.

Joe and the teenagers picked up their things and weapons and went in the indicated direction. The sheriff's office occupied a corner room on the first floor of what was once a multi-story brick building. Actually, the corner of the first floor is all that was left of the building; the rest was towering over a pile of construction debris, from which surviving pieces of walls protruded. The few remaining rooms were cleared, the garbage was taken out, the gaps were filled, glass was inserted into the windows, tables and chairs were brought in, a place for detainees was fenced off in the back room with bars, and it turned out to be quite a decent office. However, the cell was now empty. In the office, the sheriff himself, judging by the six-pointed star on his jacket, was dozing with his boots on the table and his eyes covered with a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. Hearing footsteps, he raised his hat:

- New? Where?

“Midwest,” Bob answered for everyone.

- Wow, it took you a long way to get to us. “The sheriff took his feet off the table and took some kind of barn book out of the drawer. – How are things going in the West?

“Like everywhere else,” Bob responded. “In the ruins of cities, gangs fight each other, and on the prairies, Indians kill everyone.

- Yes, everything is like ours. – The sheriff frowned, opening the book. – We need to sign you up, this is the order. I see you have enough trunks. Did you have to fight?

Joe and the teenagers nodded their heads.

“Keep the weapons for yourself, but don’t walk around the island with large weapons, it’s not customary for us.” And I warn you right away: for theft, violence, murder there is only one punishment,” the sheriff pointed his hand towards the empty cell, “the death penalty.” So all those dissatisfied with the law had to be eliminated.

“That’s right,” Joe supported the sheriff. – And so times are difficult, we need to keep people strict.

- Whoa. “The sheriff brushed invisible dust off the page with his hand, took a pencil out of his desk drawer and for some reason rubbed it in his mouth. - Let's start with you. What's your name?

“Joe, pilot, mechanical engineer, captain of the ship,” Joe reported.

“The pilot means...” The sheriff sighed. “We had a helicopter, they took refugees out of the surrounding area. We all wanted to get to Washington and contact the authorities. So he flew there and disappeared... Are you really a pilot or is it just to say, to add weight?

- True true! – Lee confirmed. “It fell right on our heads, and there’s a parachute in the bag.”

– Why do you need a parachute? – the sheriff asked Joe.

“I’ll build a boat and set a sail,” the pilot answered honestly.

- I'll sail to Africa.

- To Africa? On a boat with a sail? There are these... Afro-Africans. – The sheriff spat. - Negroes, that is.

Joe shrugged.

“But it’s warm there and there are no Indians.” “I’ll somehow deal with the blacks,” he said, stroking the barrel of the machine gun.

“The previous government would have given us such words...” muttered the sheriff.

– Is there any connection with Washington? – Bob asked. - On the radio, maybe?

- No. – The sheriff shook his head negatively. – We have an antenna on the tower, there are a couple of radio amateurs sitting at the top. They caught some signals, but there was no connection with anyone.

The sheriff wrote down the teenagers' information and asked a couple of questions. Bob and Lee weren’t particularly interested in him - they knew how to shoot, and that was fine. Joe was at first surprised by such a superficial approach, but then he remembered the death penalty.

– Go to the towers, find the manager there, tell them that they are new arrivals, he will give you a room. – The sheriff slammed the book shut. – Today, settle in, relax, and tomorrow we will find you a job. They are fed here for hours worked for the benefit of the island.

“Okay,” Joe agreed. – Are there many of you here on the island?

– Almost three thousand people. They used to come more often, people saw the towers from afar, that’s how I got here myself.

“Looks like we're the last ones,” Joe said. “One tribe, or maybe several, followed us all the way and are now standing on the shore. It is unlikely that anyone will slip past them.

The sheriff frowned at Joe.

- Bad news. We had run-ins with Indians before, but we were still able to make forays onto the mainland. “He walked to the open window and looked out: “Hey!” How are you? Steve! Run to the pier, tell the watchmen to watch the coast!

The sheriff turned away from the window:

- I'll tell the mayor. When you come to the meeting in the evening, there will probably be questions about the Indians...

Joe, Bob and Lee left the office. A road cleared of rubble and debris led to the World Trade Center towers. Islanders hurrying about their business scurried along it in both directions. The closer you got to the towers, the fewer ruins there were on the sides and the more houses that survived, although battered by time. A stone wall appeared ahead, blocking the street. The windows of the neighboring houses, into which it abutted, were blocked with bricks on several floors. But the gate in the wall was open, and there was a sentry standing on the passage.

“They take safety seriously here,” Joe noted.

“We’re from the sheriff, we’re going to the towers to see the manager,” Bob told the sentry.

He silently stepped aside, looking at Lee with interest, and waved his hand, showing the direction.

Two huge skyscrapers, about four hundred meters high, stood on a round and empty square. Between the towers there was a high shaft along which, at the level of the fifth floor, there was a fenced passage from one building to another. But the shaft itself, as Joe decided, was built up to protect it from the wind, which in the narrow gap between the skyscrapers should be extremely strong. Joe estimated by eye that this area, surrounded by low or dilapidated houses, would be about three hundred meters from end to end. The houses around created an improvised fortress. The streets facing the square were blocked by high walls, connecting the buildings. Along the top of the walls there was a battle gallery, going into the gaps in the houses and emerging on the other side as a continuation of the wall. The houses that make up the fortress were actively used. People were working near them, smoke was coming from the pipes that were brought out, and from the inside, from the workshops located there, the sounds of mechanisms and the blows of a hammer on an anvil were heard. Part of the space near the buildings was occupied by cleared of construction debris and plowed vegetable gardens and pens for poultry. Several buildings were dismantled, bricks were carefully stored, concrete fragments were collected in heaps, and various rubbish was taken out of the gate in hand wheelbarrows. Joe smelled a familiar smell.

“They smoke the fish, there’s an ocean right there, there must be excellent fishing.”

– Why are there no vegetable gardens in the center? – asked Lee. - So much space is wasted.

“There are foundations under the towers,” Bob answered. – And the land for planting is most likely imported. But there should be several more large buildings here. World Trade Center seven had forty-seven floors. There should be a complex of seven buildings, but only the twins are standing.

Joe turned his head in all directions, memorizing the location of the gates, observing who was working where and what they were doing. He was curious about everything. This unusual colony was different from what they had encountered before. Small groups that captured a supermarket or oil depot immediately began to frantically strengthen their defenses, knowing that they had already become a target for a neighboring gang. Joe and the guys had a chance to take part in several skirmishes when one group destroyed another, regardless of losses, just to get to food pantries or a fuel tank. Here everything was calm and measured. The fortress was created with skill, but no one was afraid of attack. People were working, completing the day's task. The colony had a good chance of survival. If it weren't for the Indians...

The manager turned out to be a cheerful, strong man. Newcomers found it in the huge, several-story-high lobby of the North Tower. In the center of the skyscraper there was a column assembled from elevator shafts, flights of stairs and huge metal supports, and along the frame of the outer wall at the level of the second floor there was a wide gallery, through the windows of which one could observe the entire fortress courtyard.

“We have a distribution area and a canteen in the gallery, if you want to eat, go there.” So, we have a free office on the sixth level. Or a two-room office on the fifth, but in the next tower.

“Let’s go to fifth, still go up a little lower,” Lee asked.

The manager gave them keys with the office number on the tag:

– And that’s true, the elevators still don’t work. In the basements we have warehouses and utility rooms. Wait, they will bring mattresses and pillows now. There are no bedding facilities in the offices. There are washrooms and toilets on the floor, water is supplied for two hours in the morning and for two hours in the evening. After sunset, the electricity is turned on for two hours, maybe someone will want to read a book, if they find one, before going to bed or play on the computer.

– Do you even have computers here? – Joe was surprised.

-Where does the electricity come from? – asked Bob.

- Certainly. “The manager is apparently used to such questions from new people.” “We found these two buildings in almost perfect condition, except for the consequences of fires on the upper floors. But rarely anyone goes up there, only the radio operators in the neighboring tower sit right under the roof. Everything here remained intact, furniture, office equipment, even personal belongings abandoned by employees during the evacuation, phones, bags with cosmetics, money. We examined both buildings, it was as if they had come here yesterday straight from old New York. Electricity from a generator. Fuel is not very good, but our craftsmen have made a gas generator that runs on wood and produces flammable gas. A regular car engine is powered from it, and it turns the generator.

“But Bob says they collapsed in two thousand and one,” Joe interjected, nudging Bob with his elbow.

“Many of us said the same thing until they went inside and were convinced of the opposite,” the manager nodded and pointed his finger upward. “Although there were definitely fires, the metal and walls here are made of gypsum board, which is not flammable. And we didn't find any remains of the planes. So everything quickly went dark. Maybe they didn’t fall there on Earth, but were transported here. We are lucky to have discovered this island.

- So you're not from New York? – asked Lee.

“We all came from different places,” confirmed the manager. “I was one of the first; we came here as a whole village.” Almost two hundred people. Someone noticed the towers and told the others. And we decided to move here. There was not a single person on the island.

– Are there many houses left on the island? – Joe decided to find out.

- No. The farther from here, the more destruction. In the center there is a forest, which grew out of Central Park. There is a small patch at the other end where a few buildings have survived, but all over the island there are only piles of rubble, mountains of rubble and debris. We fortified ourselves here and began to gradually clear the streets.

-What kind of people are here? – Lee was curious.

- Mostly city dwellers from the east coast. Many women and children. Family men, those who know how to work, but do not want to fight and die for a box of canned food there on the mainland. This is a quiet haven, a place isolated from everyone else. It’s calm here, although there are weapons, and we are ready to use them if necessary.

– And everyone lives here, in the fortress? – asked Joe.

– Yes, on the lower levels of the towers. Some of the artisans live right in the workshops, poultry houses remain next to the chicken coops, fishermen sometimes go away for several days, sentries on the pier and night patrols on the island call at the sheriff’s office, they have a guardhouse there. And everyone else lives here. There is enough space. I wouldn't want to run the elevator if I have to populate the upper floors.

The worker brought three rolled-up mattresses and bags of pillows and sheets.

– Yes, it’s not customary for us to enter someone else’s apartment without warning. So if you knock on your neighbors’ door and they don’t answer the door, it means they’re not at home, come back later. “And they won’t bother you without reason,” the manager noted. – There’s a meeting in the evening, don’t forget, be sure to come, meet people...

Joe and the teenagers grabbed their belongings and weapons.

- Don’t you want to eat? – Joe asked, but Bob and Lee just shook their heads. “Then let’s go settle into the new apartment.”

The fifth level, taking into account the size of the lobby at the entrance, turned out to be at the height of the eighth floor. Without an elevator, and even fully loaded, everyone was a little out of breath. The door to the desired office was found quickly.

“It’s even cozy here,” Lee noted, going inside.

The office furniture was in its place, on one of the tables was a computer from the twentieth century, with a small monitor screen with a long cathode ray tube protruding from the back.

“Wow, what an old thing,” Bob whistled.

Joe looked around the rooms.

“Take the far one,” he told the teenagers. “And I’ll throw the mattress here by the window.”

“There’s even an electric kettle,” Lee demonstrated her find. – We can try to turn it on in the evening.

“Why, the dining room is downstairs,” Bob objected.

“By the time you get down there, by the time you get back up, you’ll want to drink again,” Lee pouted.

“We’ll have to ask if it’s possible to turn on the electrical equipment,” Joe resolved the dispute.

“You can have a computer,” Bob still objected.

– A computer is not a teapot, especially this one, it doesn’t eat much.

Joe went to the window and spread out the mattress.

- How narrow the windows are here.

“But there are a lot of them,” said Bob. - This is all an architect, Japanese. He was afraid of heights and made windows so that a person could not fall out.

“And it’s not hot,” Lee noted.

“Yeah,” Joe nodded. - And these are the radio operators sitting in this tower? Bob, how many floors are there?

- One hundred and ten. Two hundred and eight feet wide, one thousand three hundred and sixty feet high.

“Four hundred and fifteen meters, not a weak house,” Joe thought.

– How long do you think it takes to get to the very top?

- On foot? An hour, maybe two.

“I guess I’ll try,” Joe said. – When will there be another opportunity to visit the roof of a skyscraper?

“I’m with you,” Bob decided. - Lee, are you coming?

- I? No! – Lee feigned indignation. “I’m tired of this hike, of traveling, running, shooting, swimming on logs. I will lie down and sleep until evening.

- As you wish. “Lock yourself from the inside, we’ll take one set of keys, then we’ll open it ourselves so as not to wake you up,” Bob said.

The poorly lit flight of stairs, sandwiched between two elevator shafts, wound up turn after turn. Light came here only from the corridor, through open doors, and then not on every floor. “And how radio operators walk around here,” thought Joe. Tired Bob was puffing behind him.

“I’m thirsty... My legs hurt... I’m tired...” Bob grumbled.

“Let’s go out onto the floor and rest a little,” Joe suggested.

– Are you halfway through? – Bob asked, taking a breath.

- No, only thirty-eighth. There’s no hurry, let’s go sit and catch our breath.

An office with an open door was found nearby. The employees, having heard the fire alarm, ran away in a hurry: someone’s forgotten umbrella was hanging on a hanger, and on the table there was a coffee cup long covered with dust. Bob plopped down into a soft chair and stretched his legs with relief. Joe looked out the window.

“Ocean,” he said. - Wow.

“You didn’t think you’d get to him?” – asked Bob.

“Getting to the ocean is only half the battle.” I still need to swim across it.

They sat for a few minutes, resting, and then moved on, crossing floor after floor. Light appeared above and fresh air blew.

- How did it end? Bob looked over Joe's shoulder.

“There, the corner of the tower collapsed, several floors. We need to go out to the level and find another staircase.

- So, maybe we can go down? How long can I climb, my knees will soon stop bending...

There were signs of fire on this floor. The glass in the windows was cracked from the heat, streaks of molten metal could be seen on the supports, and everything around was covered in smoke. The gypsum walls crumbled and the ceilings collapsed, but the steel frame firmly supported the weight of the upper floors. The required staircase was found behind the freight elevator shaft.

“Here are the tracks, here are the radio operators,” Bob rejoiced.

“Let’s go too, it won’t be long now,” Joe called.

There were no offices on the one hundred and eighth floor. The huge empty space around the block of elevator shafts and staircases, bounded by a square of sixty-meter-high external walls, was filled with small debris, sand, and cable scraps. Either the builders didn’t get here, or renovations were planned here before the fire, it hardly mattered now. A small area near the north wall had been cleared, with a few tables with a radio and a couple of computers brought from below, and a couple of chairs. The radio operator, a young, lean guy with the emblem of the amateur radio emergency rescue service on his jacket, got off the bicycle generator and was checking the charge level of the car battery when puffing and someone's swearing were heard from the stairs.

“No one has come here for a long time,” said the radio operator, seeing a man and a teenager rise to the floor. -Are you new? I haven't seen you before.

“Hi,” Joe greeted. - I’ll sit down, otherwise I’m tired of something?

– Of course, it’s very difficult to climb up the first time.

Joe sat down in a chair and pushed the other one over to Bob.

- We arrived today. So we decided not to waste time, get up and look at this beauty.

* * *

Instead of a prologue

A lone catamaran with a strike group moved uncertainly along the narrow bay...

Chapter 1
Raid

The steamer still lay like a huge block on the shore.

Several barracks with flat roofs appeared on land behind the stern. The water receded a little, and the side of the ship became a little higher, but the combat group easily moved to the deck of the half-submerged bow. They were already met on board. The Admiral immediately began accommodating the new arrivals.

- How are you doing here? – the Commander shouted.

“Yes, quietly,” they answered from the deck, “there is smoke from the fire, there they are standing.” They don’t leave, but they don’t bother us either...

- Yes this is correct. Let's figure out what the news is...

- Guys, what kind of confusion is this? We should talk! – the Commander shouted.

The sound of some inaudible command came from the shore, and stones were thrown at the fishermen.

- Sanka, scare the guests! - the Commander ordered, beating off another boulder with his shaft.

The scout did not need to be persuaded, he instantly fell on one knee on the edge of the deck and straight from his belly fired two bursts along the shore - from left to right and back, as if crossing out the bushes, stones and coastal slopes with two lead lines. People on the shore were trapped, scattering in different directions.

“Actually, I said “scare” and not “shoot,” the Commander noted.

“Well, they would have fired their pistol into the air,” Sanka snapped.

- Should I throw the ax? Okay, it looks like the acquaintance has taken place... Let's sail back!

A huge burning torch suddenly flew out from behind the coastal bushes and went high into the sky, leaving a black smoky trail behind it. The fiery projectile flew over the catamaran and fell into the sea with a hiss.

- Get moving! – the Commander shouted at his friends. “Otherwise they’ll burn some more now.” Who is it that is so strong and throws it so far?

“Yes, this is not a person,” responded one of the fishermen, “it’s like a crossbow, only big.” It takes a long time to load, and they don’t seem to have much experience, they haven’t shot yet...

“Ballista... Wow, they thought of it, and they found the mechanic, Archimedes, damn it... And they lifted it up like a mortar...”

– Let’s sail from here before new surprises arrive!

- Uncle Commander, give me binoculars! - asked Sanka.

- On the! What did you see?

- And over there, between the trees, people are standing, look.

The commander took the returned binoculars and looked in the indicated direction, focusing.

- That's it! This is the Supreme Mage! It turns out that he brought this mob on us! Well, if we catch him, it won’t be enough for him...

On the ship, those stoned were immediately taken to the ship's first aid station. And the Commander went to inspect the settlement. There he found the admiral. Four barracks stood along the perimeter of a small area immediately under the stern of the cargo ship. From the upper deck a wooden staircase, fenced with railings, descended to the ground. Another passage, covered by a temporary wooden door, was cut right into the side and led to the engine room, but it was dark there and was rarely used. The passages between the barracks and near the shore were urgently barricaded, filled with wooden and metal shields made from pieces of sheathing, logs, earth was poured onto the roofs of houses, and narrow loopholes were cut into the walls. A stack of logs prepared for buildings was taken away for fortifications. The coastal area and the space from the barracks to the forest had been cut down and cleared for future fields even before the attack, leaving only a few stumps and bushes. The commander spoke about his “acquaintance” with the barbarians.

“Let’s go to the bridge, we’ll help, and at the same time we’ll visit the gunners in the control room.”

Archers and carabinieri were located at the very top, on the boat deck. A machine gun was installed even higher, near the chimney. Here, too, they built up and strengthened the sides and leveled the flooring as best they could. Still, the tilt made itself felt. Replenishment was placed in the cabins of the superstructure. It was quiet on the bridge. A hot kettle was brought from the galley, and the Commander and the Admiral could sit quietly.

“We are preparing for defense against someone unknown...” Andrei noted. – Knock them off the shore, and that’s it. But a few questions immediately pop up...

- Yes? And which ones? – asked the Commander, brewing tea from the ship’s supplies in a mug.

- Why did they attack? When the first attack was repulsed, why didn’t they leave, but stayed? Why didn't they start negotiating with you? And why did they attack without allowing us to land? After all, it would have been easier on the shore, and they would have gotten the catamaran.

- Why, why? – the Commander responded. - Yes, just everything. A crowd is running along the shore - oh! steamer! What did we do first?

- What? Captured! The steamship is now worth its weight in gold.

- Right. So they tried too. It’s a pity to leave, to throw away such a large piece of metal. But they didn’t allow us to land on the shore in order to scare them off and not wait for a retaliatory strike. If they had captured us, you would have rushed to the rescue and carried out every single one of them. They're not exactly idiots there. They are waiting for something. Ballistas are being built. They will probably attack, but they don’t have enough strength. Let's go to the yacht and the castle in the morning, gather people, we need to remove this threat at the borders.

- Bonfires on the shore! - came from the deck.

- Well, let's go and see what this garbage is! – the Commander stood up.

In the north, a column of smoke rose on the shore, two more appeared in the east and northeast. The steamship and the fishermen's village were surrounded by barbarian camps.

- Well, we waited. “They were waiting for reinforcements,” the Commander grumbled.

“Nothing, the sea is ours,” the admiral answered him.

- The ship is at sea! – came from the upper deck.

The commander and admiral returned to the bridge. From south to north, heading out to sea, was a small two-masted schooner, converted into a galley. Oarlocks were cut into the upper bulwark for two dozen oars on each side. The commander looked around the banks and raised his binoculars.

- That’s it, it’s too late to rush around... We were cut off.

- Where? – Andrei was alarmed.

- Look, look. Near the shore in the south there are long boats, like canoes, you can’t escape from them without a motor. It’s the same in the north, and besides, this schooner will be waiting for you there. And you won’t go out to sea, they will notice and catch up with you.

“We’ll pass through at night, they won’t notice us in the dark.” Even if they walk along the shore back and forth...

“They’ll hear it and launch a rocket, if they have one.” Although if the schooner was found somewhere, they probably also got a rocket launcher from it. We'll have to sit here, wait until the boat comes. Are there any of us in the forest?

“No,” answered the admiral, “I asked.” After the attack, everyone returned, no one else left.

- This is good. I think they will try to attack this night. During the day they won’t get in front of bullets. Talk to the guys, those who served, let them crawl out when it gets dark and see what kind of camps are there. And it would also be nice to take up the language and find out what kind of people they are. And let's talk to this haberdasher. What kind of fruit?

Under the galley, in the corridor dimly lit by a seal oil lamp, a sentry was dozing. The commander patted him on the shoulder:

- How is your ward?

– He’s probably sleeping, what’s going to happen to him there.

- Open up, let's check.

The room really had no porthole, only a little light came in from somewhere above through a ventilation hole, and the same lamp as the sentry’s stood on a shelf. A strong, middle-aged man in a good denim suit rose from his bed to meet those entering. There were two large checkered bales in the corner.

“You wanted to see the local authorities,” the admiral addressed the man, “this is our Commander.” You can tell him all your news.

- Finally. Can I also ask you to let me out of here?

“I think it’s premature,” replied the Commander, “we are now under siege.” Your friends surrounded us from all sides. If they break into the ship, it will be better for you if they find you under lock and key. I will order that you be transferred to a normal cabin from this battalion... So what kind of news are you bringing us?

- I am from Moscow. The government takes control of the situation and sends out couriers to collect the survivors. You must accept the new government and support it in every possible way, gathering people under your leadership and waiting for help from the center.

– And who represents the new government? – asked the Commander.

- I can imagine! I would have shown you all the necessary documents, but they were stolen from me along with weapons and transport. You'll have to take my word for it. Moscow is rising, being reborn, it is full of energetic people. Help will come in a few years.

– And all this time I have to obey you?

- Without a doubt. I had to get to St. Petersburg, organize local government and send people to Murmansk, but in place of St. Petersburg there are only swamps and islands. So I moved on and found you. If it had not been for the meeting with these savages whom you called my “friends”, I would have proven my credentials.

– But then why didn’t you go north to Murmansk? “The direction here is a little different,” the Commander grinned, “besides, the railway to the north comes from the east of Lake Ladoga, and people should have stayed there...

“I decided to go through the border areas,” the man answered, “there were also fairly populated areas here.” And in Finland the roads are much better than ours. But now I have found you and your colony, all my labors were not in vain...

– Why did you decide that we would come under the rule of Moscow, and in your person at that? This needs to be discussed with the people... What do you have in your bales?

– Various little things that people need at first. Soap, darning kits, matches, perfumes, candles, panties, socks, all sorts of little things, but people always need these items.

- It would be better if you brought weapons and ammunition. Are there newspapers? – Andrei asked.

“There are no newspapers,” the man sighed sadly, “there is a shortage of paper in the country.”

– How did you get from Moscow? – the Commander asked.

- On a railcar... It is destroyed in some places, but overall it is in decent condition, only the last kilometers before St. Petersburg were washed away in the swamps. The trolley had to be abandoned there. I found a boat and crossed to the northern shore. There is little left of the city, a huge strait and many islands. So I sailed from island to island. And not far from here I came across these savages. They gutted my briefcase with documents, but I managed to escape... And now I am with you. I'm waiting for your decision.

“Well, wait... I’ll give orders that you get a better accommodation,” the Commander remarked on the way out.

The commander and admiral silently returned to the bridge. The commander thought about the difficult situation they found themselves in, and Andrei seemed to be chasing some of his cockroaches. It started snowing outside again, but it stopped quickly. It got colder and the sky was covered with a gray veil.

“We need to equip a messenger to Moscow,” Andrei finally broke the silence.

- For what? – the Commander asked.

– Check the courier, confirm his authority...

- Yes, he lies like a gray gelding... What kind of courier is he? The government, if there was one, would send a person alone, without weapons and without protection? And even far away, with two bales of all sorts of junk? Have you seen the movie with Kevin Costner?

– And I probably haven’t read the book “The Postman” either... And if I did read this shot, it was a very long time ago. And he decided to impersonate a government agent. You are my power, and I am your protection. Do you know who he really is? It seems to me that this is an ordinary salesman from electric trains, he rode somewhere in the Priozersk direction, selling all sorts of junk to passengers... And when he got here, he decided to get a better job. He ran into the barbarians, they either sent him away or decided to take him into slavery, so he ran away...

- Why carry things with you?

- It’s a pity to quit! Where did he go? To Finland! I decided to leave and at the same time install a merchant... There are “civilized” people there...

“Well, I’m already happy…” the admiral sighed. “I was hoping that everything would finally end...

- He doesn’t even have a walkie-talkie with him... How will he contact the center? Yes and no, most likely, there is no center, there is only taiga. He got there by rail... Did you see at least one rail around? Do you think things are different in the east? When it all ends here, you take him to the castle, where the women will steal his perfume into pieces, and then send him to the Finns on the islands, let him live in a “civilized” society. But we don't need it. I said.

- You are the boss...

- Exactly!

It was beginning to get dark, the cold water was black outside the bridge windows, and an enemy schooner was patrolling in the distance. The forefield, covered with daytime snowfall, turned white in the approaching twilight. By evening the clouds dispersed, and the first stars appeared, one of the moons rose. The commander decided that this night, especially in the snow, albeit shallow, there would be no attack. The barbarians had to set up camps and block the approaches to the village, and all this took time. Perhaps they wanted to attack on the move as soon as they approached, but Sanka’s machine gun fire discouraged any desire to attack. The village leadership and representatives of the combat groups gathered for a meeting with the Commander.

- Well, gentlemen and comrades, you and I are in deep trouble. We were surrounded by land and blocked by the sea. You most likely won't be able to escape. So we are preparing for defense,” the Commander opened the meeting. - What about our fortifications?

“The passages are closed, people are on duty at the barricades, fires are lit in the yard, we are preparing torches for the night,” answered the elder above the fishermen, “earth has been poured on the roofs, in case they decide to burn them.” There is no one there, but everything can be seen from the ship.

– Send two patrols around the yard, let them be on the move all the time and see each other. Today they may not attack us, but let the people sleep in their clothes and keep their weapons ready. There are sentries and a patrol on deck. They won't walk on water. It’s not the time of year to cross the sea, but you still need to keep an eye out to see if this schooner is going to be boarded. On the superstructure there are archers and carabinieri. Watch the shore, if anything happens, raise the alarm.

“I found a rocket launcher,” the admiral noted, “I’ll leave it to them, if anything happens, they’ll fire a flare gun...

“That’s great, it’s a pity, our searchlights don’t work, then we’d generally sleep peacefully...” the Commander continued. – Has the haberdasher been transferred to a normal cabin? Cover his porthole with something from the outside at night. Suddenly he has been sent and starts beeping again.

“Yes, the porthole looks into the water, if only he decides to jump out of it,” the fisherman responded, “we’ll settle the question, of course.”

“If he flops around, he dies from hypothermia, then that’s where he’s going.” But it seems to me that he won’t run anywhere from his trinkets,” the Commander decided. - Okay, we've dealt with him. Now, when will reconnaissance begin?

“After midnight,” the carabinieri stood up, “two of us will go and see what’s there, maybe we can get some tongue.”

- Yes it would be nice. Just keep in mind that the village is probably being watched, so go out carefully. Well, do you have any other questions or suggestions?

The admiral stood up:

“I think that if there is no assault, they can simply make some noise, raise the alarm, and try to defend themselves.” They'll probably start somewhere in the morning. Especially if the fog rises in the morning... They may decide to storm.

– Shouldn’t we also send a couple of saboteurs after the reconnaissance? - someone suggested. - We can make some noise too...

“An interesting idea,” the Commander nodded. - Admiral, think about it.

– Can we mine the banks and the foreground? We have a whole steamship of saltpeter...” asked the archer commander.

– We can, but in order to make landmines from fertilizers, we must first find concentrated acid, preferably sulfuric acid. Electrolyte, for example, will not work... And a week of time,” answered the Commander. - And a chemist who will do this... If only they had known, they would have dug wolf pits with stakes in advance. And for the future. When everything settles down, it will be necessary to dig a ditch around the village from bank to bank and let water into it. Place the earth in the rampart, you can strengthen it with stones, and put towers, a gate with a drawbridge and a palisade on top. Then we can hope that we have at least somehow secured the border settlement. So in winter you will have something to do. Well, everyone is in place, keep your eyes open, sleep with half an eye, if anything happens, raise the alarm immediately, without thinking. Oh, here's another idea. Do we have many arrows? Once every half hour to forty minutes you need to shoot a burning arrow towards the sea and towards the forest, at least some kind of replacement for flares. I don't like this schooner at all. On a catamaran and on a yacht, you should also be a sentinel, look in all directions and listen carefully. If they row, it will splash somewhere or hit a stone. In the morning, the machine gun nest needs to be raised higher, there is a small bridge on the mast, from there there will be an all-round view. Then we will keep the sea under fire. That's it for today, let's go, warn people...

Altera general fee. Alterra

Prologue

Part one America will be great again... someday

Chapter 1 Joe the Indian Conqueror

* * *

Instead of a prologue

Chapter 1 Raid

Part one
America will be great again... someday

Chapter 1
Joe the Indian Conqueror

Chapter 1
Raid