Abandoned World: The Awakening

— Please, Austin. What is your question?

— I'd like to know… Anyway… If the Earth was so overpopulated… And there were so many people. All over the Earth… Why was there only one station left? Why not several? There could have been many stations if there were so many people…

He had no sooner finished than an elderly rather than mature-looking woman shouted at him and interrupted him, claiming that he was talking nonsense:

— Yeah, you really don't get it, do you? It was all to save us! We barely survived. We only stayed in one piece because we were desperate enough to take such an important step. If we hadn't, all of humanity would have died. All of it! How can you not understand that?!

She was joined by a younger woman and a few other people of different ages, occasionally nodding at some of their remarks. From different parts of the hall there were various shouts of reproach at the young man. Austin himself tried to say that he was asking his question to the lecturer, that the essence of the question was a desire to understand what had happened, not to reproach someone for decisions, that all he wanted was to get a better understanding of cause and effect and nothing more. No one listened to him. He was only interrupted, taught, gagged, and from a certain point he was rebuked for his stupidity and arrogance.

Haddock looked at this and could not be pleased with the way he had structured his whole process. It was not for nothing that he had categorized his audience so well — he must always have with him those who, at the level of faith, agreed with his arguments. The kind of people for whom his truth is an immutable, almost sacred truth that cannot be questioned even in their own minds, let alone in public.

When he looked at something like this, all he did was to calm down every time. His truth has an ironclad hold on this world. His truth could already exist on its own. These lectures, in fact, were already necessary just to stretch oneself. To shake up the old days, so as not to lose his grip. And for

my own satisfaction and to raise my spirits, it was very important to make sure once again that the system works smoothly and durably. That it was not based on the moment, not on chance, but on verified calculations, which can really exist forever.

Haddock's assistant stealthily entered the hall and quietly approached him. He came very close to him and whispered in his ear:

— Mr. Haddock, Peyton Cross has had a heart attack. And Delaney Harper was found unconscious with him. She has a concussion.

— Did he do that to her? — Heddock asked, also in a whisper.

— I guess so.

— I'm coming. — The head of the Enlightenment section turned toward the hall, where the argument with the clear winners and outsider was still going on, and addressed them:

— Well, it looks like we've got all the answers, so on that happy note, I suggest we end our lecture today….

***

When Heddock had first heard what had happened, he had thought the old man had had a little too much to drink and then misjudged his strength, not out of spite, but rather in a flash of fleeting anger, had hit his girlfriend. But the details were somewhat different: Peyton with his pants down and semen on his own belly, Delaney lying next to a broken head and bloody nose, and an empty glass near the chair. Heddock's opinion changed somewhat after hearing all this.

There was no such thing as an outburst of rage. It seemed like sadism on the elder's part. First he hit her on the cheek, and then he hit her on the head with the glass. It was unclear in what order he had cum, but the interconnection of these things was a little frightening.

Haddock knew about the adventures of his best propagandist, his mind and doubt caster. He knew that Delaney was a frequent visitor, and had seen the details of the meetings several times, even on hidden cameras. The predicament they were both in only told him that, at least initially, things had gone on as they usually did. But something had gone wrong This "wrong" was not yet

clear in Haddock's mind, because Peyton had never been known for any kind of physical aggression.

Yes, he often shouted in arguments, often waved his index finger, made menacing faces and glared not only at his opponents, but at all interlocutors. There was no doubt that this was just a stage role and nothing more. And it was all the more confirmed by the fact that even in those cases, when something could come to a fight, Peyton, seeing it, hastily hid behind the backs of his colleagues, shielding himself from possible danger. And he never tried to hit someone himself, no matter how much he threatened to do so. In short, violence was quite alien to his nature.

But here it looked as if he was whipping a woman who was pleasuring him at the same time. Doing what he wanted. And he responded with a glass to the head. I couldn't think of anything but sadistic tendencies coupled with some other psychotic disorder.