A narrow strip of polyasphalt flowed beneath the wheels of his car as he drove at 350 kilometers per hour along the highway, glancing blankly at the holographic advertisements. Ilya Fedorov was not very enthusiastic about coming home after a routine day at the office. He and his wife had long ago both lost interest in socializing, their conversations were becoming more and more banal, and they couldn't even find reasons to quarrel anymore. In the evening they simply fell asleep, each on his own side of the bed. There was no more love between him and Tamara, Ilya was well aware of that.
He was working outside the city, the skyscrapers of Saratov already peeking out from behind the lush vegetation of the parks surrounding him, and the man had reduced his speed to 200 kilometers per hour, the maximum allowed in residential areas. Ilya continued to follow the other cars along the monotonous route leading to his house when one of the holographic signs caught his eye: "Do you want to live forever?". He braked sharply, not knowing why. The electric car behind him almost hit his car, swerving to the side just in time. The defiant and audacious promise drew Ilya to the sign.
The billboard showed a smiling woman and a man in their thirties, dressed in tracksuits with an emblem on their chests. The same logo flashed at the top of the billboard: the Immortality Company. Ilya had heard of such a company, specializing in genetic engineering. Its technologies had been recombining the structure of DNA for decades, changing it and improving the quality of life. So he was interested in the significance of this advertisement. "Has their research led to an increase in average life expectancy?" - Ilya asked himself. Apart from the phone number and the logo, there was nothing on the billboard.
He returned to his cozy but ordinary home every evening along the familiar road, and now an ironic commentary in the form of glowing symbols added to the fleeting nature of his existence. His thoughts returned to his wife, to the prospect of another boring evening, to a simple dinner of meat and vegetables and to watching idiotic programs on TV. The man took a closer look at the billboard after getting out of the car: behind the dense greenery there was a discreet building to which the luminous sign belonged. The plants, however, skillfully imitated metal elements embedded in organic glass, smooth, bio-techno style, matching the facade of the building. The scent of freshly cut grass and flowers still wafted from somewhere. Apparently from behind this makeshift fence, where the silence, broken by the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves, contrasted with the noise of traffic.
Ilya approached the building, passing through a gate that was unlocked at this hour. The wall, too, was decorated with a peculiar panel depicting intertwined animal and plant forms. To his surprise, this dynamic system reacted to his approach: the panel opened by itself, forming an entrance. Inside, the corridor was illuminated by the soft light of bio-lamps that mimicked sunlight. The cool air was saturated with the scent of essential oils. The glossy leaves of exotic plants that grew everywhere in the small greenhouses glistened in the light. A woman in an elegant but simple dress sat at a small table. When she saw Ilya enter, she made a peaceful face and painted an enlightened expression on it.
- Hello! Would you like to live forever? - she asked in a melodious and calm voice, smiling slightly.
Ilya felt a rush of excitement and swallowed. He had come in just out of curiosity and was surprised at the welcome. He had expected something theatrical mixed with complex instruments, doctors in white coats, and sterile laboratories. Here it was so peaceful and beautiful, like an oasis. Ilya even backed away, ready to leave.
- I'm not sure...I was wrong..." he muttered, feeling awkward.
The woman's face showed understanding and she nodded, but invited Ilya to sit down in the only chair across from her desk.
- Let me explain it to you," she said softly. - Eternal life is not the mere absence of death. It is an infinite possibility of development, an endless stream of experience. Would you like to have it?
Ilya thought about her words against his will. He had never pondered such questions so seriously. Eternity... it was impossible to imagine, it was both beautiful and terrifying. Meanwhile, the woman continued:
- We offer deep regeneration technology that allows humans to live much longer than nature intended. This is not just immortality in its primitive sense. It is a long process that requires understanding of all the implications and total dedication. Would you be interested in learning more about it?
Ilya tried to understand what was behind this frightening but tempting offer, gazing into the depths of her eyes. Immortality... its price hadn't been named yet, but he could already sense that it would be high.
When he got home, Ilya took a beer out of the fridge, put it on the table and opened it. He sat down, poured the beer into a glass and stared at the plate with smoking meat. Not knowing what kind of meat it was, he tried to guess its origin, already assuming in advance that it would be impossible to determine by taste. The vegetables that were on the plate separately seemed more appetizing to him. Tamara, who had been silent all this time, said:
- You had a beer the day before yesterday.
- I'll drink it tonight, too," Ilya said in a steady voice.
They had long ago developed the habit of not arguing with each other, not raising their voices, and not trying to keep the conversation going. They had realized that if each tried to give in to the other, it would only improve the situation. Taking an indifferent look, each of them waited for the other to get bored with the conversation, for silence to fall, and for everything to return to normal. But tonight, Tamara didn't stop talking.
- You can't drink beer all the time.
- It's made to drink," Ilya cut him off. - And when they stop making it, I'll learn how to make it myself and continue drinking beer.
Tamara was still mumbling something, but her husband wasn't listening. He turned on the TV, and the sound of her voice was drowned out by the music of commercials. Incredible white implants, new cars on a magnetic cushion, developing speeds of up to 500 kilometers per hour, a telephone integrated into the nervous system. Ilya suddenly discovered that all this television nonsense was even more stupid than his wife's chatter. Why does mankind always strive for the best of everything? The most versatile phone, the most beautiful appearance, the fastest car. He took a big gulp of beer and dared to take a bite of meat. He almost choked on it.
- Do you want to live forever? - came from the TV screen. - Call Immortality now and make an appointment.
- What do you think about it? - Ilya himself had not expected such a question from his wife.
- About what? - Tamara stopped chewing too.
- About this commercial, Immortality. I believe they do organ repair. Your brother went to them about three years ago for a hip replacement, right?
- Yes, they helped him a lot, Leonid is running around like nothing ever happened again.
- Do you think they really prolong life? - Ilya asked cautiously.
- Not everything the commercials say should be believed.
- I agree, but today's cars are indeed capable of incredible speeds. I'm just wondering what they mean by "live forever"?
- Some deception, as always," Tamara concluded succinctly.
Ilya looked at her somewhat angrily. His wife had never believed any advertising, considering anything shown on TV to be a scam. "I'll visit them again," the man promised himself, "just for fun. At lunchtime."
The next day Ilya felt like a boy going on a first date. He couldn't wait for lunch, nervous, afraid that another publicity stunt would turn out to be a simple money trick. But he was driven forward by an exhausting and irrepressible curiosity. So, he found himself back in that center, gleaming with polished marble. The hall smelled again of something exotic, a mixture of fresh herbs, jasmine and sandalwood. The same woman with a practiced smile sat at the entrance. But this time there was a man standing next to her in a strict suit and with a calm confidence on his face. He immediately extended his hand to Ilya:
- Hello! My name is Artem Sergeyevich. We are very happy to see you. I see that you would like to know more about our Eternal Life program?
Ilya nodded, thinking that the woman had told him about their meeting yesterday, but feeling the tension subside. Artem Sergeevich didn't look like an impudent salesman. They went into his spacious office, furnished with expensive furniture, and he answered all of Ilya's questions without prevarication, thoroughly and calmly. Artem Sergeevich confirmed that "Eternal Life" is not an elixir of immortality, but a complex program that includes an individual approach to genetic correction, as well as meditation, exercise and nutrition.
- Immortality is unrealistic and we do not promise it to you," said Artem Sergeevich, "but we can significantly improve the length and quality of your life. Our research has shown that by using specially developed drugs and adjusting the genetic code, it is possible to increase immunity, reduce the risk of age-related diseases and slow down the aging process.
Fascinated, Ilya listened to him attentively. Artem Sergeevich showed him the results of his research, charts and graphs that looked incredibly convincing. He learned about the strict medical controls, about the methods of genetic correction, and about the composition of the drugs.
- Of course, this program is not cheap, - Artem Sergeevich answered his patient's question about the price, - but you are investing in your health, giving him the best that we can offer you.
The man thought of Tamara. About her skepticism, her constant distrust of all promises. Looking at those charts, he was beginning to realize that his wife was wrong. Perhaps Eternal Life was not a hoax, it was a chance... his chance for a happy and long life. He asked Artem Sergeyevich if he could give him all the necessary documentation with him for a thorough examination. He was handed a bright and voluminous album without any objections. Leaving the center, Ilya felt completely different. Even the city air seemed cleaner to him. He asked himself whether he would tell his wife about his trip to the Immortality Company.
Ilya devoted the evening of that day to studying documents, and the next morning in the office he worked like a robot, thinking of nothing else but "Eternal Life". As on the previous day, he hardly waited for his lunch break, rejected his colleagues' offer to have lunch together, and as soon as they came out, he grabbed the phone and dialed the number indicated on the colorful album handed to him. At the other end of the wire, Ilya was answered by a female voice already familiar to him:
- Immortality Company, hello!
- Good afternoon, I was at your place yesterday and spoke to Artem Sergeyevich.
- Yes, yes, Dr. Taranov remembers you. Have you made a decision? I can get you your first free appointment with the doctor. Would the day after tomorrow be convenient for you?
- Yes, thank you," Ilya mumbled, hung up the phone, and for the next two days he couldn't eat or sleep.
They passed in agonizing uncertainty. He was either panic-stricken or hopeful. Alluring and dangerous at the same time, the word "immortality" sounded like forbidden fruit. What if there could be side effects from their treatment? At times, all sorts of horrors popped into his head: from complete decomposition of personality to ugly mutations. Ilya read and reread the album given to him by Artem Sergeevich, tried to find information on the Internet about the company "Immortality": reviews, posts in online forums. However, he realized that on the network information spreads by the principle of "word of mouth". Still, Ilya decided to talk to his wife once again.
- What kind of crusade do you have in mind? - Tamara was surprised. - Do you want to throw money away? Where are you going to get so much money? You'll be fifty soon, what illusions can you have about eternal life?
- I'm forty-six," Ilya corrected her.
- That's almost fifty! Who are these Immortals anyway? How do you know what they can do to you?
- I haven't actually told you about their life-extension methods yet, and you're already taking it personally. I already made an appointment.
- And he told me nothing! - The wife was horrified.
- Look, it's just a consultation, I haven't signed anything yet. As soon as I know the details, I'll tell you.
The day of the appointment came. Ilya didn't sleep all night. On the one hand, to live in full force for many, many years, and on the other hand, complete uncertainty. Exhausted, he got up and put on his best suit, feeling like he was in front of the court. Ilya drove up to the clinic in a complete panic. The building looked even more beautiful in the morning sunlight. He was met in the lobby by the same woman who quickly carried out the necessary registration procedures, after which Artem Sergeyevich was waiting for Ilya again in his posh office. Dr. Taranov met his new patient with the same smile that had been straining Ilya from the very beginning.
- So, Ilya Petrovich, what have you decided? - he asked, motioning him to sit down. - I can see from your look that you are still in doubt. Let me suggest you watch a short video.
The doctor switched on the holographic computer, and right on his desk Ilya saw a man and a woman who looked very much like the couple from the billboard above the clinic building. They were strolling along a park path, holding hands, and seemed very happy. Suddenly, the man began to age, his gait slowed, his shoulders hunched, and his hair became noticeably thinner and grayer. Finally, he collapsed right on the path, closed his eyes and froze. The woman remained as young as ever. She leaned over the fallen man, stroked his head, then, as if nothing had happened, got up and walked on alone. Ilya suddenly imagined himself and Tamara in their place, only in reverse: she was growing old and dying, while he remained young.
- Well, what do you say now? - Taranov asked.
- It's a strong story," Ilya said cautiously. - Let's discuss the details. Suppose I agree. What will my life be like in this case, and what exactly will you do with my body?
- These are very pertinent questions, Ilya Petrovich! As you know, our company is dedicated to improving the quality of life. Thanks to our research, dozens of diseases have disappeared, and for us there are no more secrets in genetic engineering. And then one day our scientists asked themselves a question: what if our methods could help a person to live... let's say... for a very, very long time? I will spare you from explaining all the factors of aging, I will only say that the main ones are physical and psychological factors. This is how the Eternal Life project was born, which not only improves the quality of life, but also prevents the aging of the brain and the depletion of the body.
- So Eternal Life isn't just an elixir of immortality? - Ilya asked.
- This is a complex program that includes several interrelated areas, the main of which is gene therapy. We have developed a set of genome-modified viruses that affect certain DNA regions in order to correct genetic errors responsible for aging processes. These viruses suppress the activity of genes associated with the accumulation of cellular debris and inflammatory processes, as well as activate dormant genes responsible for the regeneration of cells and tissues, and simply delete faulty genes.
- How will you go about this whole procedure with me?
- To avoid unwanted side effects," Dr. Taranov replied with a smile, "the patient's condition is carefully monitored, so the entire procedure is carried out in several stages. We take into account the peculiarities of each organism and its genetic predisposition, finding an individual approach to everyone. The main direction of the whole program is neuromodulation. In old age, one of the main reasons for the deterioration of the quality of life is the aging of the brain. To avoid this, you will be implanted with a special chip that will promote the growth of new neural connections, stimulate the activity of existing ones and improve the work of all areas of the brain.
- Am I going to have something implanted directly into my brain? - Ilya's eyes widened fearfully.
- These chips are biocompatible and completely safe," the doctor reassured him. - They are powered by built-in microbatteries that charge wirelessly. In addition, they can warn of disease and provide constant monitoring of the brain. By updating the software of the chips, we can adapt them to the needs of each patient and also improve the functions of the chips. And that's not all. We have developed a new technique: the use of stem cells that can transform into any type of cell in your body. With the help of such regeneration, aging processes at the cellular level are slowed down and damaged organs and tissues are restored. With the help of this technology, it has become possible to treat almost all diseases associated with aging.
- Who's going to be in charge of my treatment?
- Experienced specialists will carry out all procedures under strict supervision in specially equipped wards of our clinic. Each patient is also provided with psychological support, as mental wellbeing is an integral part of physical health and therefore longevity. We have developed individual psychological support programs that help people at every stage of treatment to find meaning in their future long life and to adapt to the changes that will be associated with such a long life cycle. Our goal is to improve the quality of life, not just prolong it, by allowing people to live happily while maintaining physical health and mental clarity. While we understand that access to the program is limited for some segments of the population due to the cost of technology, we are constantly working to reduce the price of treatment by improving our techniques.
- All this is great, - a little thinking over the doctor's story, said Ilya, - but according to the law of nature, everyone should die, every person understands it, being a child.
- You're both right and wrong. Let me show you something.
Dr. Taranov clicked on his computer and turned the monitor to Ilya. He saw a quick succession of scenes from the life of first prehistoric, then increasingly modern man.
- Tell me, Ilya Petrovich," he asked after the end of the short movie, "did everything you saw happen according to the laws of nature? Since the first millennia of his appearance on Earth, man has been striving to overtake the time allotted to him by nature, increasing the duration of his life. The first people lived only 30-40 years, today the average life expectancy is 125 years, and some long-livers die at the age of 160 years. All this seemed like science fiction some two centuries ago. Man has slowed down the aging process by subordinating nature to his desires and needs. But there is an upside to this: in order to create our technology, the clinic's researchers had to study human life from prehistoric times.
- What does the health of an ancient man have to do with what you will do with my body? - Ilya wondered.
- In the course of evolution, there were errors in cell reproduction that our DNA was not always able to correct. Over thousands of years, they have accumulated, and in their increasing number, the causes of aging have been hidden. That's why one of our primary methods has become the process of correcting these errors.
- And how long would the process of such a fix take?
- As soon as the DNA is perfected," Taranov explained, "the patient will have to stay in our clinic under the supervision of specialists. If all goes well, the treatment will take a couple of months. Patients undergo daily tests and examinations, and they are prescribed a strict diet, as poor nutrition is the cause of many pathologies.
- Well, what about after it's over?
- Our patients are provided with excellent facilities in Immortality settlements. A new, healthy and eternal life begins for them.
- Wait," Ilya didn't understand, "what about my job?
- You'll have to leave it. But after treatment, you will find a new job with us that matches your education.
- But I have a wife... What about her? It's a bit... painful to give up your old life in exchange for immortality.
- Ilya Petrovich," the doctor said a little thoughtfully, "and it's not yet a fact that you are suitable for the Eternal Life program. You will have to undergo a thorough examination, as we do not accept people with obvious signs of old age that cannot be corrected. To achieve a state of eternal well-being, this is an essential prerequisite. You will also be required to undergo psychophysical fitness tests.
- What the hell is that?
- It is a test of your intelligence and general knowledge. It measures the degree of aging of your brain cells.
- Good, - Ilya decided to find out the main thing as soon as possible: - how much does it all cost?
- One million euros. This price includes the mortgage.
- Like a mortgage? Why?
- You will be provided with housing in our settlement. When you think about it, a million for eternal life is not that much.
- Okay, doctor, I have to think about it," Ilya stood up. - It's a big expense for me, I have to decide if I can afford it.
- Let me explain that this amount is paid in equal monthly installments with a down payment of one hundred thousand euros. If it suits you, I'll give you a brochure with our details, and then you can decide for yourself. - Dr. Taranov handed Ilya a small booklet, shook his hand and opened the door of his office, seeing his potential patient off.
Walking out of the doctor's office, Ilya felt excited and stunned at the same time. A million euros... for eternal life. It was madness, the mysticism of a science fiction novel. But the nice-looking pamphlet in his hand said otherwise. Everything breathed of the impeccable reputation and solidity that the clinic appeared to have carefully maintained. Ilya sat down on a bench in the lobby, looking thoughtfully at the brochure. A million euros... It was a lot of money, but he had savings that Tamara didn't know about. As a successful IT businessman, he had an account, albeit not a substantial one, that could provide him with a secure old age.
Old age... Suddenly that word began to frighten Ilya. Gray thinning hair, false teeth, hunched shoulders. To avoid this, would he be willing to sacrifice a down payment of one hundred thousand euros? It was a tangible sum, but he could easily find it. The question was what came next. Eternal life. What did that really mean? Ilya imagined an endless succession of days, weeks, months and years. Would he be equally happy for all this allotted time? Or, on the contrary, would he wallow in the endless repetition of routine and tiresome monotony? Now he is successful in business, but in life? Ilya had friends and loved ones, but when they die and he is left to live, what will happen to him?
Ilya imagined himself watching the change of generations, the birth of new civilizations in a lonely immortality. It was not a rosy picture. He opened a colorful little book. Neat font, detailed description of the procedure, consultations, guarantees... everything looked professional. But he remembered that the doctor never said anything about side effects, about what would happen if the patient stopped paying. Ilya began to read the small print of the contract carefully. The legal details were clear, but some of the clauses were striking: the impossibility of refusing a procedure after treatment had begun, mandatory participation in research, restriction of personal freedom-all of this was alarming.
What will Tamara say if he decides to take such a step? How would he live while the rest of us were mortal? Before, the feeling of loneliness had only flashed through his mind, but now suddenly it became an obsession. Ilya closed the brochure and got up from the bench. He realized that he had much more to think about than he had previously thought, the decision should not be rushed. For the first time Ilya felt real anxiety before the unknown, which could turn his whole life upside down. And this unknown was scarier than the price of immortality.
Ilya drove home slowly, setting the autopilot to a cruising speed of 170 kilometers per hour, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. Though Taranov answered all his questions, it seemed to him that the doctor was hiding something. He began to slowly go over in his mind all the details of their conversation. A million euros. Illya glanced at his bank's app on his phone. He didn't have a million yet, but the money he had invested in stocks brought a steady income. It was more than enough for the down payment, but he wouldn't be able to afford the rest of the payments.
Next, what about his job? Dismissal did not scare him, even on the contrary, a solid severance package would ensure him a few more payments to the clinic. But what kind of job would he be offered in the settlement? Would he like it? It was a pity that Ilya hadn't thought to ask the doctor more about these settlements. And most importantly, how to tell Tamara about what he was going to do. The doctor hadn't even once asked him if he had a wife, family, relatives, that was what was strange. After all, if he agreed, he would have to break up with Tamara and forget about his loved ones! Now it does not scare him too much, but what if later he starts to long for his past? Wouldn't it affect his mental health and wouldn't he be expelled from the program? With these thoughts Ilya drove up to the house.
In purple and pink colors under the evening sky, their small but elegant house looked quite cozy. Ilya hesitated for a long time to get out of the car, sitting in it with the engine off. The thought of the upcoming conversation weighed heavily on his shoulders. He imagined his wife's face, and the words did not come to his mind. Ilya pulled the clinic's brochure out of his pocket, which now seemed like a shard of a heartless and cold future. Was there any point in telling his wife about high technology that looked so empty and unconvincing against the background of his own doubts?
Finally making up his mind, Ilya got out of the car. As he approached the house, his heart was pounding in his chest like a trapped bird. As soon as Tamara saw him, she realized something was wrong. He tried to smile, but the smile turned out like a grimace. Unable to utter a word, her husband held out the brochure to her. Her eyes widened, and Ilya, taking air into his lungs, tried to retell her today's conversation with Dr. Taranov, avoiding unnecessary details. Thinking his words cruel, he spoke of the possibility of changing his life, but he realized that his confidence was slipping away like sand through his fingers. Tamara listened in silence, her lips pale. Then there was a long silence.
- So you're leaving and you're not coming back? - she whispered softly. - Have you signed the contract yet?
Ilya realized that all his explanations were empty sound, and he was unable to find words of comfort. What psychological checkup at the clinic could we talk about if he was unable to explain himself to his own wife? By accepting the offer of Taranov and his team, what would he gain and what would he lose, what would prove most important to him? He hasn't made a final decision yet, but this choice is much more difficult for him than he had anticipated. There was one positive thing, though - his divorce from Tamara. Ilya took a shower, calmed down a little, and the spouses sat down to dinner. But neither of them had a bite to eat.
- Can you at least tell me how much it's going to cost? - Tamara said tensely.
- Look, I haven't made a decision yet...but in case you're wondering...a million.
- A million... what?
- Euro.
- But you don't have that kind of money! - Tamara exclaimed with ill-concealed hope in her voice.
- I only have to put up a hundred grand first. Besides, what do you care?
- You're still my husband... Are you going to have surgery? Did you ask how it's gonna happen?
- It's a treatment based on genetic engineering," Ilya said reluctantly. - I'll have to spend some time in the hospital. Well, it's understandable that... I'll have to leave my job.
That evening the conversation between the couple went no further than that. The next two days Ilya tried to keep his wife out of his sight as much as possible, and on the third day he received a prospectus with all the details of his stay at the clinic by e-mail. He liked these details: the accommodation was luxurious, and he was offered a choice of three industries, however, nothing like his own business. Ilya spent the rest of the day thinking, but on the way home from the office he realized that he had already made his decision. Now he had to tell Tamara about it somehow.
There was silence at home. Ilya went into the kitchen and finally gathered his courage. The conversation was going to be difficult. He opened his notebook again: luxurious apartments, an outdoor swimming pool. He liked the three industries the company offered: development of environmentally friendly technologies, creation of innovative educational programs, and restoration of buildings. Ilya felt a strange but exciting excitement. At first he wanted to write Tamara a letter, but the words seemed too cold and lifeless. He deleted the typed text and sat silently with his head down. When his wife came out of the bedroom, she looked tired.
- Tamara," Ilya began, "I've made up my mind.
She approached slowly, sitting down on the edge of the couch. Her husband tried to find words that would not offend her. But he had to tell her that he felt exhausted, that his work had become a burden, that he was tired of the constant strain on the family.
- I want to start again," Ilya said, looking into his wife's eyes. - I want to try something different, to devote myself to something more meaningful.
Tamara listened attentively without interrupting. Ilya was afraid of her reaction, afraid to see anger, to hear reproaches and accusations. Finally, the woman sighed quietly and said:
- Ilya, I... if you really want it, feel it's necessary for you...
It seemed to him that their world would fall apart. But he realized that he was not mistaken and had chosen the right path to something new, to a happier life.
- So you found the money? - Tamara asked without any expression in her voice.
- Yes, I can afford the expense. I'll sell the shares, I'll have enough for the first three installments. Then it'll be easier, I'll work there and pay it all off.
- The contract says you'll still have to pay the mortgage.
- They give it to me for forty years," Ilya replied calmly.
- Forty years! You'll be in your eighties!
- You forget where I'm going. It's an immortal society, everyone has tons of free time.
Silence followed.
- Then it's over," Tamara finally said.
- Look, the last few years of our marriage were coming to an end, weren't they?
Suddenly she burst into tears:
- It's true, we didn't always get along, but we were happy once, weren't we? I didn't think you'd decide so quickly without even discussing it with me. And now you're leaving for good. You want to know the truth? I didn't believe you'd say yes. I thought you went there out of curiosity, and this is how it turned out! I'd better go to bed, I'm a little tired and I need to be alone.
Ilya was unable to utter a word, to comfort her in any way. But how to comfort someone you were parting with forever? He heard the sound of water in the shower, then the creak of the bed. Trying to convince himself that his wife was not suffering, but just annoyed, that she would be better tomorrow, Ilya was very surprised to hear Tamara crying. He felt a lump lodge in his throat, his wife's crying was breaking the carefully constructed wall of indifference. He knew this was the end, but the emotional component of his decision came crashing down with brutal force. Fragments of their life together, Tamara's wedding dress, the quiet evenings spent reading, flashed through his mind. And now it was all crumbling, turning into shards, sharp and painful.
What could he say? Empty words would just add to the pain. Especially now that it was over. Perhaps it was best to just leave so she could cry. Ilya slowly opened the door. Tamara was sitting on the bed, tears streaming down her face. He didn't know what to say, just put his hand on her shoulder. She didn't pull away, and he realized he was part of her unhappiness. It was a farewell, but without sympathy, without painful affection, it was a farewell that hid a bitter truth: love fades not when people part, but when they continue to be strangers.
The notice to report to the clinic came three days later. Ilya was worried again, whether he would be accepted, whether he would be able to pass the tests. He was a well-read man, a certified specialist with a good education. Physically, too, Ilya had always been healthy, though he didn't consider himself athletic. He decided that it was useless to think about things that would only be known after the tests, and he calmed down a little. His relationship with Tamara had grown even colder, and Ilya hoped she had come to terms with it. The next day he did not have breakfast, as he was ordered to report to the clinic on an empty stomach. After informing his wife that he was leaving for an examination for the day, Ilya was pleasantly surprised that she wished him luck. He was tense, but tried to say goodbye to Tamara as warmly as possible.
Dr. Taranov was not at the clinic, which disappointed Ilya a little. His feces, urine and blood were taken for analysis. Then he was taken to the shower and asked to wash himself, and afterwards he was invited to a small room where they began to ask various technical questions, offered to solve math problems and solve rebuses. The tests lasted more than two hours, Ilya was very exhausted morally, but afterwards he was fed in the canteen, though the lunch was not too abundant. In the afternoon Ilya had an X-ray of all his organs and a brain scan. He was released only in the evening without giving any results. Ilya felt as if he had been abducted by aliens and experimented on.
At first the poor man didn't even have the strength to go home. He sat down on a bench in the public garden and began to think about immortality. What would happen to his brain if information was pumped into it for hundreds or thousands of years? And what if it couldn't withstand it? Ilya felt his palms sweating, finally stood up and headed for the car. At home, he sat in his chair and sank back into himself, hoping that Tamara wouldn't ask about the events of the past day for as long as possible. It still felt to Illya like someone was digging around in his brain. All to determine if he was worthy of eternal life? And if he was rejected, he would die like everyone else when his time came, as was the order of the day.
Ilya, with his eyes closed, falling into the embrace of the upholstered chair covered in soft plush, absorbed with his whole body the scent of his quietly measured life that he had so suddenly tried to disrupt. He felt gutted, and the sensation was more of a mental one. The cold surfaces of unknown apparatuses, the flickering screens, the unsettling sense of evaluation came to mind, as if his life was just a mathematical problem for them, the solution of which should determine his future fate. And the price of all this - eternal life... Previously seeming something from the realm of fantasy, this idea was now tangible and real, but for some reason it pressed like a heavy stone. Ilya imagined infinity, infinite possibilities, but also infinite responsibility. What if this experiment ended in failure? Then death would be not just an end or a defeat, but an admission of his failure. His humble memorial, his withering flowers, his entire life would appear insignificant in the light of the eternity offered to him.
Tamara was back. Ilya knew she wanted to know how his tests had gone, what had happened to him. But he wasn't ready to just tell her. He needed time to sort through his thoughts, to digest the overwhelming events. Ilya took a deep breath, trying to forget, if only for a moment, about those who determined his fate, about the pending sentencing, about a possible eternity.
Two days later, Ilya received a message on his phone: "We are happy to welcome you to our Eternal Life program. At that moment he was at a meeting and could hardly hide the euphoria that swept over him. Immediately forgetting all his fears, Ilya barely waited until the end of the meeting and went straight to the director to take a leave of absence "for family reasons". The settlement could be made later, when Ilya would know everything for sure. Before leaving the office, he went to the personnel department to write an application. The next day, another message asked him to transfer the down payment to the clinic's account in the amount of one hundred thousand euros and to send the attached contract signed with a digital signature. Ilya made the down payment, returned home and started packing.
He began pacing the rooms at a loss. What to take with him? He was leaving home forever, Tamara didn't ask any more questions, it would seem that he should be happy that he was accepted into the community of immortals, but what was wrong? Ilya began to imagine how he would live with strangers, away from home and his wife, and suddenly with surprise caught himself thinking that he would enjoy staying in touch with her. At first dreading talking to her, now he wanted to call Tamara occasionally to tell her how he was doing, to ask how she was feeling. He walked to the kitchen, rubbing the still-empty bag in his hands, and asked his wife, who was preparing dinner:
- Can I call you once in a while? Just to... see if everything's okay.
- Okay," she answered calmly, then added hesitantly, "I wanted to ask you that too, but I didn't know if you wanted me to.
- Of course! - Ilya rejoiced. - I'm going to have an operation... you never know... I'll keep you informed.
- You're going to miss it...
- There's even a movie theater and a library. And then I will be constantly monitored, tested, examined, in short, I will not be bored.
- And if your body rejects them... well, all their genetic engineering? - Tamara asked suddenly, turning to Ilya with a spoon in her hand.
- The brochure says they will then refund the money.
- Really? - Tamara rejoiced. - How good!
There was an awkward silence, which each of them interpreted in their own way. Tamara hoped that her husband didn't notice the hope in her voice that something would go wrong and her husband would come home. Ilya thought that his wife was just worried about him, and he was pleased to have her in his life. He packed his bag, but if someone had asked him to list what he had put in it, he wouldn't have been able to remember a single thing. Even the next morning seemed to come too quickly, and he had to say goodbye to his past life, his marriage, and his home for good sooner than he had anticipated.
- Well, I'll go," Ilya said, appearing on the threshold of the kitchen, where his wife was fiddling with the dishes.
- Bye, Ilya," Tamara replied, smiling, but he realized she was barely holding back tears.
- I'll call you and tell you where they're sending me.
And he was off into the gray, chilly haze of morning. It seemed to Ilya that the bag weighed a ton as he loaded it into the car. Glancing up at the windows of their house, he saw his wife's pale face in one of them. Ilya nodded, his throat catching. An inner chill pierced through him, mirroring the icy fear deep inside. He got into the car, feeling both terribly alone and free at the same time. The city whizzed by outside the window, familiar chaos reigning. It seemed to Ilya that he was leaving not for a new life, but for nowhere, having lost his tranquility, his home, his wife. He imagined Tamara alone at home, in their empty apartment, and a sudden pity squeezed his heart.
- Congratulations, Ilya Petrovich!" Dr. Taranov shook Ilya's hand cordially. - You have passed all the tests, your body has responded perfectly to all the examinations and tests. You have a very good chance that the operation will be successful.
- Thank you, Artem Sergeyevich... May I call my wife? Ex-wife.
- Well, all right. You rest for now. You'll be called back for your next checkups.
The monotonous days at the clinic began. It seemed to Ilya that each of them was like his first test: cold metal tables, buzzing machines, glowing monitors, injections... He did not believe that he was entering a new life, not much had changed for him, the monotony had been replaced by another. But Ilya realized that all these examinations were necessary, and treated everything patiently, waiting for the results of his suffering. Sometimes he called Tamara, who tried to keep her voice calm, but the pain slipped through, came out, it was not so easy to hide. Over time, Ilya began to hurt too, but he didn't see a way to give it all up and come back. One day he remembered the day when the billboard on the highway had caught his eye, and he asked himself whether he should curse that day or thank it, but he couldn't give himself an answer.
Months passed. Sometimes Ilya was called in for a conversation by Dr. Taranov; in his spare time he read in the library, talked with other patients, or watched movies. Very rarely he amused himself with the dream simulation machine, afraid of the temptation to order a dream about Tamara and their home. It began to seem to Ilya that this would be his eternal life of analysis and idleness, when suddenly Taranov called him into his office, announcing a very important meeting.
- Congratulations, Ilya Petrovich," the doctor said, as on his first day in the clinic, "all your tests meet the necessary standards. As of today, you are a full member of our community and the Eternal Life program. Tomorrow you will depart for your new home. You will be given a job and a temporary counselor.
- Thank you, doctor... And... what about my surgery?
- You have already had everything you need done, you are fully prepared for eternal life.
- That's how... - Ilya didn't know what to say out of surprise. When did they have time to do something with his body? - Well, I'm looking forward to seeing your settlements. I've never seen them in reality, only on holograms.
- And they only exist in holograms.
- I beg your pardon? What do you mean?
- Calm down, the terrain there is real," Taranov smiled. - We are only changing the interior. It will depend on your interests, tastes, and mood. Virtual images from your memory will be modeled after real images.
- Very interesting," muttered an intrigued Ilya.
The next day he was told that a helicopter was waiting to take him to his new home. Ilya packed his small belongings and followed his escort. They flew for a short time. From the heights he saw meadows covered with flowers, snow-capped peaks, and wondered if they were real or someone's dreams, desires and dreams. He saw a river with sandy beaches, crystal clear blue water, and fanciful plants growing along its banks. Suddenly he saw a familiar landscape and his heart squeezed painfully. It was his favorite place from his childhood: his grandmother's little house on the riverbank, generated from his memory and recreated with uncanny accuracy.
Ilya, who had been reserved up to that point, became very excited. It was as if he could clearly smell the odors of lilacs from his grandmother's garden and see the sunlight on her windows, near which the old apple trees grew. Ilya remembered how white flowers fell from them when there was wind or rain. Immediately the sky was covered with clouds, and raindrops drummed on the windows of the helicopter. "So I can control the weather here! - Ilya thought in surprise. - It's enough just to call up from memory the moments that are pleasant to me!". He imagined walking along the ocean shore, and his grandmother's house immediately disappeared. The helicopter was flying over the coastal strip, the wide water surface with white lambs of waves was spreading in the distance, and the wonderful sunset was shimmering over the sea with orange and scarlet colors.
Ilya saw from the height of their flight a lone figure walking slowly along the shore. Something made him lean against the window with excitement and curiosity, and he discerned the silhouette of his grandfather, who had died many years ago! Why are they doing this? Would he be able to get used to all his memories being so real, would he be able to relate to them calmly or would they always make his heart pound? One would have to hope that he would learn how to manage all these adjustments without going insane. Ilya plucked up his courage and asked his guide:
- Will you be with me all the time?
- Only at first," replied a gaunt man of very pleasant appearance, "until you get used to it. Of course, if you need more time, I'll help longer, don't worry.
- All these... images... is there a limit to all these fantasies? I mean, won't I create something unreal in my imagination that will drive me crazy?
- There are, of course, technical limitations. For example, it is very difficult to recreate unearthly landscapes. If some abstract image appears in your brain, the system remakes it into a more realistic one. In general, it will be completely your world, where you can create on the basis of your own fantasies and memories. And no one will have access to your personal space without your permission.
Years passed. Ilya still called Tamara about once a month via video link. Her face had aged, her lips had thinned, her creases and wrinkles had deepened, and she no longer dyed her hair. When she turned ninety-four, Ilya noticed that his ex-wife's hearing had deteriorated dramatically. Slouching on the other side of the screen, she tried to scrutinize her interlocutor, who had once been her husband.
- You haven't changed a bit, Ilya, since you left," her voice was hoarse and shaky.
- Well, then their program is working.
- I've gotten old.
- Tamara, you don't look bad for your age," Ilya lied.
- You heard about my brother?
- Yes, I'm very sorry, I'm sorry for your loss.
- Leonid was only two years older than me. All of us were at the funeral... The ceremony was very beautiful. I wish you could have seen it. I know, I know, your rules forbid you to leave the community.
After his conversation with Tamara, Ilya thought about her words. She had told him at length about her brother's funeral, describing in minute detail the coffin, his clothes, the procession with flowers and wreaths, the grave... Was this her hint that it was waiting for all of them, and Ilya would never receive such honors? And yet it was true. Many good words must have been said about Leonid, because he was a very righteous man, a kind father of the family, he was loved by his friends and former colleagues. And what did Ilya do in this life? Many of the people he once knew had already died, but that's the order of things, isn't it? Thinking this, he went to see a movie.
Relationships between men and women were not forbidden in the communities, but Ilya never found a mate. He had girlfriends, some of whom he met occasionally, went to the movies or restaurants, but it didn't go any further than that. There were very beautiful women among his acquaintances, Ilya remembered that in his former life any of them would have been the subject of his most sensual fantasies. But here he had shown no interest in them at all. Over the years, he had noticed that it was extremely rare for couples in the community to have serious relationships, and even rarer for those couples to reunite.
The strangeness of this situation struck Ilya, and he tried to understand the reason for the absence of married couples in the community. Was it some kind of mental barrier or a peculiarity of reality itself? He remembered his former life, full of deep, albeit short-lived feelings. Things were different here. Friendly and friendly people surrounded themselves with an invisible wall separating them from each other on an emotional level. Ilya began to scrutinize those rare alliances and found that most of them were not romantic, but rather partnership or business. People pooled their resources, supported each other, but lacked a drop of passion or the slightest spark of feeling. One day Ilya dared to ask a neighbor, Eduard, who had lived for many years with an attractive black-haired woman named Emma, about their relationship.
- 'I don't understand your inability to experience attraction for each other,' Ilya told him, 'what is the reason for the lack of love between a man and a woman in the community?
- You're looking for love in a place where it can't exist, Ilya," Eduard, who had lived in the settlement for over a hundred years, replied thoughtfully. - This place was not created for passion, but for balance, mutual help and harmony. Love manifests itself here in a different form. The long life we have needs mutual support, calm affection, not impulses of feelings. Passion, on the other hand, destroys the balance, makes a person become selfish. Here it is important to learn to live in harmony with each other and with ourselves.
Ilya pondered Eduard's words for a long time. He realized that it was not a defect of society, but a completely different system of values. They had left all their outdated ideas behind in their past lives, and in this new world they had to rediscover their connection with other people, which consisted of support and mutual respect. To understand love in its unknown form became Ilya's aspiration to discover a new way.
Seventy years after Ilya entered the immortal community, he was informed of the death of his ex-wife Tamara. She had not lived a few days before her hundred and eleventh birthday and died in clear consciousness and with a smile on her lips. They had talked on the phone shortly before, Tamara's voice was already very weak, but she was happy to see Ilya. It only seemed to him that she had become slightly jealous of her ex-husband, perhaps foreseeing her own imminent end. Suddenly he realized how much he had missed her all these years.
When the couple had lived together, love had been absent between them for a long time. However, here, in his new world, Ilya had learned that new form of love, which consisted of warm affection, and realized that this was the feeling he and Tamara had been missing. Here they could find it. After the death of his wife, Ilya finally lost touch with his former life. He was at what was considered an average life expectancy there in the ordinary world, but he looked as young as he had seventy years ago. What would happen to him next? Would he suddenly begin to age?
Remembering Tamara, Ilya was ashamed of his thoughts. For several days he didn't leave the house, didn't watch movies or read, being in deep mourning. He took a vacation and didn't go to work. He felt as if fate had taken something important away from him. He did not understand whether such a state of mind was normal, and decided to consult Dr. Taranov. They rarely communicated, it was no longer necessary, but now Ilya asked the doctor to see him. He told Taranov about his grief over his wife's death and asked if it was normal and if something similar had happened to other members of the community.
- Ilya Petrovich," the doctor said calmly, "if you consider it normal to live forever, then you can consider everything that happens here with you normal. How did you feel about death in your previous life?
- Like all my friends and family, I knew I would die someday," Ilya waved his hands.
- That's right. Although every mortal wants to postpone that moment for as long as possible, but treats death as something natural and inevitable. It's inherent in everyone from birth. Here, however, not everything is as simple as it seems. We see our loved ones die, but the Eternal Life program is not able to prepare its patients psychologically for it.
- You're right, Doctor, we need to learn to treat death the same way here as we did in our past lives.
Ilya was somewhat relieved, but the next day the community was shocked by the news that Dr. Taranov had died in a car accident, crashing at 450 kilometers per hour on the highway on his way to the institute where he was lecturing on genetic engineering. The Immortality company was inherited by his son Dmitry Taranov, and it was announced to the members of the community that the new director, after his father's funeral, would attend a ceremony held in the community in memory of the deceased. Ilya was curious to meet the son of the man who had given eternal life to hundreds of people, and on the appointed day he came to the ceremony without having yet removed his mourning for Tamara. He was shocked to the core to see a decrepit old man in the pulpit of the hall where the whole congregation was gathered!
- Is that Taranov's son?! - Ilya asked the man sitting next to him, Ivan, whom he knew a little from work.
- Yes," the man replied. - His son never participated in the Eternal Life program. You didn't know?
- No," Ilya muttered in shock. - He decided to be mortal like the rest of them! Despite his father's cause? Taranov senior, while still young, crashed into the wall at breakneck speed, and his son will die of old age... Which of these two deaths is normal?
- Normal will be the death of that person who leaves behind good offspring," Ivan said with confidence.
- What do you mean?
- In seventy years you still haven't understood anything? - Ivan looked at Ilya in surprise. - How many children have you had?
- My wife and I had no children. And she died a few days ago. I have no one left.
- Taranov Sr. had only one son; after he gained immortality, he had no more children. His wife left him for another mortal and bore him two more. And Dmitri has three children, five grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. Have you been here with any woman?
- No," Ilya admitted stunned. - But we have other interests here besides sexual attraction.....
Ivan chuckled derisively, and a terrible suspicion crept into Ilya's head, like an icy dread creeping under his skin. He couldn't articulate them; they hung in the air like a suffocating fog. Ilya suddenly felt trapped like a fly in amber, it seemed to him that his immortality was not a gift, but a curse. So this was the price one had to pay for eternal life!
- But we were so happy here," Ilya said with difficulty, his voice low.
- Wake up, happiness is only for mortals, it's different here. We've all become something else, like a different, alien species of animal. We are observers. Taranov Senior... He found a way. Immortality is solitude, Ilya. We are constantly watching the world change, people being born, living and dying who you loved. And you remain. Like a statue in a perpetually frozen pose.
- So you think that Taranov--" Ilya grimaced, "himself--
- Have you just accepted that you'll never want a woman again? That you wouldn't be a father, a grandfather?
- But I'm a hundred and fourteen years old, Ivan! I no longer have the need...
- Yeah, but when did you stop feeling it? As soon as I got here! And you were in your prime then, you had just separated from your wife, you had met so many beautiful and young women here! Where was your need seventy years ago? - Ivan switched to a whisper as the old Taranov Junior on the podium began to talk in a creaky voice about his dead father.
- It was explained to us here that longevity has its own, quite different charm," Ilya said hesitantly.
- And you believed it. Tell me, why do people make love?
- Well, that's great... it was great... we enjoyed it....
- I'll explain something to you like a child. Nature doesn't care about your pleasure, she created it for you to continue your species. Your species must survive, breed and multiply at all costs - that's the main law of nature. - Ivan was silent for a moment, then spoke again, even quieter, with bitterness in his voice: - I had a girlfriend. There, in that life, many, many decades ago. We were going to get married. But that Taranov destroyed my whole life with his publicity. Man is weak, beckon him immortality, and he'll come crawling on all fours to get it.
- What have they done to us? - Ilya seemed ready to hear even more terrible things that couldn't hurt him any more than they already had.
- If we are immortal, we don't need to continue our lineage and preserve the species. Imagine if a community had children, and they had children too. We'd multiply exponentially over the decades. Would Taranov have enough immortality for all of us? And a place in the community? On Earth? Or would you rather live forever and watch your children die? Would you want that? Neither did Taranov Sr.
- It didn't say that in the brochure," Ilya said and immediately realized the stupidity of his words.
- No, they didn't write that in the brochure," Ivan confirmed mockingly. - I don't think they even knew about the consequences of all the manipulations they were doing to us. If Taranov senior had known about it, he would have done the same thing as his son. Dmitri realized this when his mother left his father and he never had another relationship with any woman. So Dimitri refused to participate in the program and chose family over immortality.
Ilya didn't want to continue this conversation any longer. He just stood up and walked out of the crowded hall. He felt cheated. If Ilya had known this before, would he have agreed to participate in the program? After all, his marriage to Tamara was falling apart anyway, they hadn't thought about children in recent years. He wasn't sure. At home, he tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep, remembering his life. Only now did Ilya realize that he had only truly lived until the end of his marriage to Tamara. All the subsequent years in the community had seemed empty and aimless to him. Without meaning. Without hope.
Ilya sat up on the bed. What was he hoping for now? Death. When you know that one day you'll be gone, you're motivated to achieve something for the rest of your life, to set a goal and get what you want. That's true well-being - to enjoy what you've achieved before you die. What's the point of goals if you live forever? One day there will be no need to even think about it. Why? Because there will be nothing left to wish for, nothing left to plan for. Eternity, it... turned out to be a sexless, useless slug, not living, but existing... for what? That's what Ilya would do! Tomorrow he would go to that old Dmitry Taranov, who turned out to be smarter than all of them, and demand that he be released from here and have his mortality returned! The thought made him feel better, and he fell asleep.
The morning brought changes not only in Ilya's thoughts. It seemed to him that even the air in their settlement had changed, becoming stifling, like absorbent cotton, dense and heavy. He rose with an effort, as if his body had suddenly ceased to be young, an incomprehensible longing still weighing on him. Ilya remembered the old and haggard face of Dmitri Taranov - shrewd, like an ancient magician, who was the only one who understood what was going on in this strange world.
Taranov Jr. was housed in his father's mansion, built of some dark, shiny stone. The house seemed not just a structure, but a monolith, a part of eternity itself. A door without a handle and without a lock seemed to dissolve into the wall, inviting Ilya to enter. Trust reigned in the community, and it was normal to come to visit without an invitation. Only to come to talk to the headmaster, one had to get permission, but the doors were never closed. Ilya had not secured such permission. The inside of the house was dark, smelling of something bitter. Dmitri Taranov sat behind a huge oak desk, his face seeming even older and haggard.
- Who's here? - The immortal heir asked quietly without turning around.
- My name is Ilya Petrovich Fedorov. I want you to give me back my mortality. I've changed my mind, I no longer want to live forever. This eternity... is not life, but decay.
- Do you think it's that easy? - Taranov rose slowly, his deep and dark eyes staring intently at Ilya. - You signed a contract with my father, as far as I know. Just like everyone else living here. Death is not a door that can be closed or opened at will.
Ilya felt panic overwhelm him. Should he pay for the right to immortality with this agonizing infinity? He felt a long-forgotten fear awaken in his chest. In Taranov's eyes Ilya saw not sympathy, but indifferent observation. It was as if he saw not only the present, but also the consequences of every choice.
- You know that no member of the community is allowed to leave the settlement.
- You see, Dmitri... uh... Artemyevich, this is a special case," Ilya tried to calm down and explain. - The thing is that Dr. Taranov didn't tell his patients the whole truth about the Eternal Life program. It turned out that there were side effects from what had been done to us.
- This is confidential information, especially since I have never fully delved into my father's research. Now, having accepted his cases, I am trying to understand the essence of his experiments, but of course I do not intend to discuss it with my patients.
- Experiments?! So modifying our DNA was just an experiment to him? And we find out decades later? Besides, I'm just now learning that the doctor's only son was not part of his experiments!
- Isn't participation in the program a free choice for everyone? - Dmitri asked patiently. - You made one choice, and I made another.
- Yes, but the company had no right to hide side effects that patients might experience!
- As far as I know, you signed an agreement before the operation that you knew the risks you might face. The company didn't hide anything.
- Why wasn't there any mention of infertility in the contract? - Ilya insisted. - And also about loss of libido.
- Because it is not a disease or disorder that a patient can experience after any intervention. And it is not at all proven that patients do not experience sexual desire precisely because of the immortality they have acquired. Rather, the connection is subconscious.
- What do you mean by that?
- The fact that the patient may have limitations at the psychological level: due to a change of lifestyle and profession, due to a new diet and new activities, anything can contribute to such inhibition.
- So you're saying it's our fault? - Ilya said wryly.
- All I'm saying is that the true cause is unknown. Especially after the death of the inventor of the Eternal Life program.
- Well, do you personally admit that the desire to create a family and give birth to children has been lost by all residents of the settlement without exception?
- Who says it is? - Dimitri said indignantly. - How can we verify it? We have no right to invade the privacy of our patients. If they don't want to have children, can we force that desire on them?
- Okay, I don't know if I'm capable of having kids at my age anymore, but I just want to get out of here and have a normal life again.
- You mean get a normal... death?
- I'd like my normal routine back," Ilya said tiredly.
- The normal order of things... - Dmitri's gaze was as penetrating as an X-ray. - You understand perfectly well that "normal" here is a relative concept. According to the law of the community, normal is accepting one's situation, even if one finds it unbearable.
Ilya was so tired that he remained silent, staring at the floor. His heart, previously burning with bitterness, was now devoid of any emotion, as if scorched by the sun. He was truly exhausted mentally. Dmitri, taking advantage of his apathy, continued:
- You talk about a normal life, but what does it mean to you? A job that no one will hire you for? A family you no longer have? What filled you before, the routine? What did you value?
- I loved my work," Ilya tried to defend himself, "it was my life. I loved... yes, in my own way I loved my wife... And here... my own feelings became not mine... I want to live again, even if not for long, even if only a few years....
- You're wrong. If you leave here, you'll be dead in a few days. - Seeing Ilya's eyes narrowed in disbelief, Dmitri continued: - If the patient does not follow the diet that everyone here adheres to, take medication and stay in sterile rooms, his body will begin to deteriorate rapidly.
- I don't care. I want to take a risk. It would be enough for me if I could visit the grave of my wife and friends, see their children and grandchildren with just one eye.
- You're going to your death.
- It is your company that dooms mankind to extinction," Ilya said. - An individual person is not immortal, but mankind can live forever if it finds the right way.
- But until it finds that way, our planet is so polluted that a person of your age without the Eternal Life program would not live a week on it.
- I don't give a damn! - Ilya exploded. - I want to get out of here now!
- All right," Dmitri said after a long silence. - You must submit the request for consideration. This is the first time the patient has been so insistent about leaving the community, so it will take time for us to prepare the petition form. You will have to sign the company's statement that the patient is not guaranteed survival outside the settlement.
- I'll sign everything.
- You will also have to meet with a psychologist, then I will convene a board of community leaders, if they approve your petition, in three days you can leave.
Three days later came the message that the management approved Ilya's request. He was invited to a meeting with a psychologist, explaining that the company wished to be free of any liability. He was also reminded that under the contract he was not entitled to a refund. After seventy years in the community, Ilya had no hope of getting money from them, he was glad already that he would be allowed to break free. The psychologist's questions were much more trivial than Ilya had imagined. He asked him to give his opinion about the program "Eternal Life" and to tell about his decision to join the community. The doctor wrote everything down and sent his report to the management.
- It's okay," he said to Illya, "You can go.
- I'm not crazy, doctor? - Ilya asked almost seriously.
- No," he laughed, "you can rest easy about that. Your decision is unusual, but it is entirely your own conscious choice. A helicopter will take you home tomorrow morning.
Home. Ilya lost count of how many times he'd said that word during the evening. He savored it like a chocolate candy, saying it both aloud and mentally. Legally, their apartment still belonged to him after his wife's death, since their divorce hadn't been legally finalized. This was where his real home was, with all his memories, where every corner would remind him of the woman who had loved him.
Ilya began to wonder how many days he could hold out. Dmitri had talked about a few days; the document he'd signed to relieve the company of all responsibility had mentioned a week. A whole week to savor the memories, to hold every single thing Tamara's hands had touched all those years ago. Then, it was explained to him, there would be a sudden drop in immunity, a crash of all vitals after the change in diet, rapid aging, and a lot of other things Ilya didn't remember.
In the helicopter he was provided with, he realized that he didn't care how long he could live. He would die at home, in his own life, which belonged only to him, which consisted of the normal order of things running their normal course. When Ilya was already flying towards the city, he realized that he regretted only one thing - that he couldn't grow old together with Tamara. He felt no other pain until the last hour of his life.