Chapter - 14
Roma fiddled with the pen in his hands. The man was sitting at the table and visibly nervous. He was sweating all over, looked pale and depressed. All sorts of thoughts were spinning in my head. And now, left alone with himself, Roma gave free rein to the emotions that had been eating him from the inside since morning. Not knowing what he was doing, the man swept papers and folders off the table. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. It became a little easier when the anger that had been accumulating inside all day, clenched into a fist, spilled out.
This is a bunch of people who hid under white coats and called themselves scientists and doctors… They could do anything and play a game that only they understood, but he would not take part in it. Not for anything and never. A conversation with the head of the so-called rehabilitation center only strengthened the scientist in his opinion. It was a farce, a pseudoscience. It was possible to select thousands of definitions for what is happening here, but not one of them will fully reflect the current situation. The young scientist's soul was in complete turmoil.
If they decide to start the opening no matter what... the flag is in their hands. Roman could not figure out what the head of the rehabilitation center meant when he talked about vaccines codenamed Alpha and Omega. He could not and did not want to, which in the current conditions was equivalent. Are these people used to working blindly, on their fingers, or did they read between the lines on the contrary? How to understand, it was stupidity bordering on genius, a work on the verge of science fiction, when masterpieces are born from an empty place. Or critical cretinism? Rather the second. Anyway, Roman himself, who was reputed to be a serious and thorough scientist in scientific circles, could not afford such a luxury as developing a new vaccine without laboratory research and experiments. Perhaps he did not know something and lagged behind modern trends. But... they were real people, not laboratory mice! None of them gave their consent to the experiment, each of the people who gathered for help at the door of the rehabilitation center came here for help. And what kind of help will they get in the end? Injection of a strain of the NMS virus…
That's right.
The man decided to distract himself, Roman got up from his chair, went to the window, pulled back the curtain, but immediately pulled it back. Still, it's a good thing he didn't go there. Dozens, if not hundreds of people crowded on the site at the entrance to the former kindergarten. Faith glowed in the eyes of each of them, the look was full of hope. They expected a lot to change. How would he look these people who came for help in the eye? No, you won't get what you were looking for? Instead of making your life easier for you, helping you assimilate, feeling like you belong at someone else's celebration of life, are we just telling you the same shit that flows through the blood of the "reds"? It turned out somehow like this. It didn't sound very encouraging. Or was this the essence of the very rehabilitation of the doctor "Alpha and Omega"? Get everyone under the same comb. Now it's not entirely clear who is for the whites and who is for the reds.
And what can I say about the vaccination of the center's staff? I don't care that you have a white bracelet, I don't care that your bracelet is red. Now, not a single employee had a bracelet on his wrist. How could there be such confidence in the vaccine administered to employees in the morning? It didn't fit in my head.
The man forced himself to stop the flow of thoughts in which he could drown. The lousy thing is that he can't refuse, he can't leave… Now he wasn't wearing a bracelet. Roman understood that he was involved in a mess, from which he might not find a way out. Until he finds a way out, it remains to play by someone else's rules, there is no other way.
And if so…
Roman bent down and began to collect the documentation, which he himself scattered on the floor in a fit of despair. The head, Vasily Viktorovich, clearly indicated that the scientist is counted on within these walls. He promised to take Roman to the laboratory immediately after the opening ceremony, but in the meantime he suggested that the scientist familiarize himself with the charter of the center, study the list of available equipment and technologies. It is very curious, considering that Roman was still tormented by doubts about the suitability of the premises for scientific work. Externally, the room differed from the kindergarten only by the presence of office desks that stood on every corner and the presence of staff in white coats. No more.
I had to admit, in all this confusion, the organizers of the rehabilitation center, or personally Vasily Viktorovich, allocated Roman a solid, and most importantly a comfortable desk, even if not a separate office, as was stipulated in the travel letter. A thought flashed through my head. What would happen if he refused a business trip? Was he dragged here by force? The buggies, who, apparently, carried out the protection of the staff, could wring the neck of a guy like Roma with just a glance. This thought made him uncomfortable and Roma stared at the first document that came into his hands.
"Interesting."
He was holding copies of certificates of the Advio 2120i hematological device and the Hitachi-902 biochemical device. Good automated systems. Roman did not remember in the case of the Hitachi-902 device, but he remembered for sure that in the Avdio 2120i analyzer, along with the conductometric analysis method, a whole combination of different methods is used. The device required special skill and education and did not allow negligence, otherwise there could be a serious error in the results. It was enough to use an isotonic solution and a hemolytic from different manufacturers, and this could lead to an error in the result. Roman discontentedly threw the sheet with copies of certificates on the table. Who supervised the transportation of the devices to the rehabilitation center? Do the people responsible for this know that analyzers cannot be left out of work for a long time? Did they pour preservative solutions into the hoses? If so, were the appliances washed on arrival… He felt angry. Perhaps it was not worth it to be so fuming about this, but the idea of trusting the manufacture of a vaccine, which was supposed to be a perfect technique, and not the hands and mind of a person, looked doubtful…
Roma flipped through a few more pages. A brochure dedicated to the methods of studying blood cells, hematopoietic organs and the hemostasis system fell into the hands of the guy. He looked at the author and the year. Rodnin G.A., without indication of academic degree, 2015. It does not look like an abstract or a methodical manual. The man flipped through the first pages and threw the brochure aside. I wonder why Vasily Viktorovich provided him with such information for review? Or did the rehabilitation center not know the scientist's portfolio? It turned out very curiously. The pile of papers and pamphlets on Roman's desktop looked more like worthless junk. But the head of the center spoke so expressively and confidently…
The man was distracted by noise from the street. People gathered at the entrance to the rehabilitation center applauded. The applause merged with the hooting and whistling, all together forming a hum. The opening ceremony has begun. Roma squinted at the window and shifted in his chair. I wonder if the crowd's jubilation will be replaced by general anger if people find out the true purpose of those who gathered them under one roof today?
"When these people get the vaccine, they won't care," Roman thought.
Now the crowd saw the men in white coats as their saviors. Was there at least one other person in this building who thought exactly like him? Roman suddenly caught himself thinking that if there is such a person, it won't change anything. Both this man and Roman himself, they are both shaking for their skins, looking for a way to survive, even at the cost of the lives of hundreds of other people. After all, neither he nor this mythical man will be able to surpass himself, will not cross the comfortable line of security to inform the audience about the trouble.
"That's right..."
A thought with a smell. Roma's skin was covered with goose bumps. If it were possible to hide, as in childhood, somewhere in a closet, cover yourself with a blanket over your head, he would no longer be here. He didn't want to hear the cheers and for a moment even plugged his ears and clenched his teeth. From there, children's voices could be heard from the street. How can you so sacredly believe everything that the government said? But didn't he himself believe this very government in the same way, sacredly, until recently? Blindly closing their eyes to everything that was happening around them, to the madness and discrimination that people with white bracelets were subjected to, to the endless vaccinations of people with red bracelets. It's not a bad idea to close your eyes and pretend that you have nothing to do with it when trouble bypasses you. Out of anger at himself, Roma clenched his fists, feeling his nails dig into his palms. A few weeks ago, he seriously thought that the restrictions of the so-called "white" population were justified, and he was working for their benefit to protect and preserve humans as a pure biological species. In practice, everything turned out to be the opposite, turned upside down. The government was much more concerned about the fate of the "reds", who had all the conditions created.
Not in time, prudence surfaced, oh, how not in time. The man felt his back getting wet, he got to his feet and began to pace the children's playroom equipped for an office. The door of the makeshift office was open and he could safely move around the center, but now, Roman felt like a bird in a cage, like a trapped animal. Nevertheless, the man could not resist, went to the window and pulled back the curtain just enough to see the picture of what was happening. A crowd of people at the center lined up, as it usually happened when vaccinating the wearers of the red bracelet. Impatience and a desire to put an end to the hated fate of the "white" froze on people's faces. Hunted and frightened people looked out from behind each other and looked at the table comfortably located opposite the entrance doors of the center. There were packages of vaccines on the table. A man in a white coat was explaining something to the audience, next to him was another doctor who was preparing the first vaccines. On the sides of the doctors or those who posed as such, godlessly violating the Hippocratic oath, there was an impressive guard of four thugs with machine guns at the ready. The muzzle of a deadly weapon looked at the floor, but inspired fear and fear. Vasily Viktorovich was nowhere to be seen.
Roman listened, trying to distinguish the words of the man in the white coat. However, instead of a welcoming speech, the man ordered to distribute leaflets to the audience and began to talk with the second doctor.
Roma closed the curtain and plopped back into his chair. Cats were scratching at my soul.
"Maybe not everything is as bad as it seems?" flashed through my head.
He groped for the ampoule that was left lying in the pocket of his dressing gown after the morning general vaccination. After all, he's clean, and if so, there's nothing to be afraid of. He didn't know which ampoules would be injected to those gathered at the center now, but if the body resisted the strain before the artificial vaccination, maybe it wouldn't be too late to change everything? He didn't know, he didn't know anything at all, and the emptiness that filled his mind scared him the most.
Only now Roma noticed a small leaf lying inconspicuously on his desk. It was hidden so that an outsider's gaze bypassed the leaf, but Roma certainly drew attention to it, hiding half under the keyboard. Roma pulled out a leaf and twirled it in his hands. Plain white office paper.
In the name of our Lord, whose name is the King of heaven, the Savior, and against the will of the Antichrist, for the good of our people. Everyone will find salvation, so that he may turn to the Savior, the heavenly King. Remember, sinner, that the Speaker is among us.
The man shook his head, squeezed the leaf and threw it into the trash. Complete nonsense. He didn't believe in God.