Chapter - 11

Robert, lost in his thoughts, shuddered at these words. What to do? Sasha's question was asked in essence. But what if those with whom he walked hand in hand yesterday clearly and clearly expressed their desire?

"I don't know, I don't know yet," Robert shook his head.

"But in the morning they will vaccinate themselves, Holy Father," Artyom put in.

"I have no right to forbid them! I can warn, but not forbid!"

Artyom threw up his hands.

"But didn't you say that you need to believe to the last, that there should be no doubt? Why then were these meetings, prayers, reading the Gospel?"

Robert sighed heavily. I didn't want to argue at all. It was all painful and hurtful.

"You're right, these were my words, I gave people hope for a future life, understanding that you can live without sin, but for good," he said.

"So why are you turning a blind eye to what is happening now? Isn't that a sin? To look at how those to whom you gave a chance and returned the meaning of life sin? My brother the holy father is there and I don't want these people from above to put a cross on him."

"Everyone should have their own choice, they know that they are going against the Word of God, in the name of sin..." Robert whispered.

"And what if not, Holy Father? What if they don't know? What if you haven't explained the Holy Scripture clearly enough to these people? Why do you exclude this option? Have you thought about the fact that you can still guide these people on the right path? After all, this is your duty, Holy Father!"- Artem finished and breathed heavily.

There was nothing to say in response. Perhaps he really failed to be heard or understood? No less than Artyom himself, Robert wanted to believe that his parishioners did not know what they were doing and where they were going. But what now? It was too late to talk about it. At night, either a fool or a complete madman could stick his head out of the house. There was no time left. The parishioners were going to go to the rehabilitation center in the morning.

Seeing that Robert was confused, fat Sasha put his hand on his shoulder.

"Artem is right, you should not give up what you started, maybe they really need your help. We all need it," he said.

"Will you be there?" Robert asked coldly.

Artyom didn't say anything. Robert saw the two men exchange glances.

* * *

The door of a small office opened and a man in a white coat with a gauze mask on his face appeared from there. He was accompanied by a frowning, frowning military man with captain's shoulder straps on his shoulders. He was holding a small suitcase with the image of the red cross in his hands, and what immediately caught Roman's eye, the men were not wearing bracelets on their wrists. That is, they did not have any red or white bracelets that were familiar to the eye. Only the skin, with a white trace from these very bracelets, which were not in place right now. It looked, at least, strange. I wonder how to understand whether these people are infected or not? Or did they take off their bracelets awol? But such cases were immediately known to the government through the radio communication system. Yes, and this man in a white coat was in a position with the government, let alone a captain, a military one. It's nonsense.

The doctor without the bracelet stopped at the table and pointed to the tabletop. The captain silently put his suitcase on the table top. The doctor in the gauze mask looked around at the gathered staff of the rehabilitation center, who had been waiting for his arrival for a good half hour. At eight o'clock, a man in military uniform announced the need to gather at the vaccination office of employees for the introduction of a planned morning vaccine, and only now a doctor came out to them, for some reason taking this captain with him. Perhaps it was so established that the elders in the center could not take a step without an escort. Who knows? Anyway, to Roman, who had practically not slept all night and now felt as if in a kind of fog, these half an hour seemed like an eternity. I wanted to get vaccinated as soon as possible and finally find the main one with whom I could discuss my prospects for working at the center.

"It's been a long time since such a thing happened that an experimental vaccine was injected into us on the second day," one of the employees standing not far from the scientist giggled.

Roman frowned. I wonder what this young man meant? Were the capsules with the new vaccine hidden in the suitcase with the red cross? Were they really going to inject their own employees with an unexplored substance? It could hardly be. The side effects of the new drug have not been fully studied and no one will give the order to experiment, especially on valuable personnel in the person of their own employees. The reaction to the new antibodies could be anything.

"Say thank you that they don't give you the shit they cooked for white people," another employee replied.

For Roman, the words of the second person became even more unexpected. It turned out that for people who came to the rehabilitation center for help, there was a different vaccine, different from the one that is injected into employees. It was wild to understand. But knowing the situation that now prevailed in society, one could expect anything from the state. Another thing was also interesting. Why did these two know about what was happening at the office, knew about the differences in vaccines, and Roman himself did not know anything except the time of the proposed opening of the rehabilitation center. Perhaps this was due to the fact that he had not yet had a meeting with his immediate superiors. Perhaps he wasn't told more than he should have known. In the end, he was only seconded to this rehabilitation center for a while by an auxiliary employee and there was nothing surprising in the fact that he was not allowed to the inner kitchen. Rather, it would be strange if all the secrets and nuances of the center were immediately laid out to him on a platter.