Vadim Simbarskiy

Cubes


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am I? Where am I? How did I get here?” But

      soon, regaining his composure and overcoming his

      momentary hysteria, he thought, “It doesn’t matter

      how I got here, the main thing is to get out of

      here as soon as possible. So, the street, if it

      is a street, is perfectly straight. The buildings

      resemble huge cubes and rectangles without windows

      or doors. And it feels as if I’m very small and

      in the middle of a child’s building block set.

      There are no people, no cars, nothing on this

      street.” But despite all this emptiness, there

      was a strange hum.

      Ben looked at his watch: it was 05:59. “Six in

      the evening or morning?” Ben caught himself

      wondering. After all, when he arrived at the

      construction site and fell, it was morning. Ben

      looked at the sky, and it was unclear. The sun

      wasn’t visible. Just a matte blue sky without a

      single cloud. As if it were artificial, and there

      was no wind at all…

      Meanwhile, as Ben tried to analyze his sensations,

      the hum grew louder and louder. And suddenly, as

      if on cue, walls opened in all the buildings. Like

      garage doors. People poured out of them, yes,

      people. Everything around became bustling,

      something like buses appeared from somewhere, but

      without wheels, and people started getting into

      them, and everything began to spin and whirl. Still

      not recovered from his first impressions, Ben

      received a second dose and realized that he looked

      100% like a complete fool. No wonder many were

      looking at him very strangely.

      Here, dear reader, for the full picture, I switch

      to a first-person narrative.

      As I was gawking around, my gaze fixed on something

      hurtling towards me, seemingly about to crush me.

      Yes, it was the so-called bus. But someone’s strong

      hands, probably, grabbed me and threw me aside.

      A second later, I was sitting on the floor, and

      next to me stood a guy about my age, of average

      height with light hair and tanned skin. His clothes

      resembled those worn by plumbers or mechanics.

      I examined him, he examined me.

      Then he asked, “Is your distance sensor not

      working?” In response, I continued to stare at

      him, blinking, as I caught myself thinking that

      he was speaking to me in a language completely

      incomprehensible to me, sounds I didn’t know, but

      for some reason, I understood him. To me, it seemed

      like some hellish mixture of English, German,

      Russian, and some other languages.

      “Are you okay?” he asked again.

      Apparently recovering from shock, I quietly said:

      “Yes, I’m okay.”

      Apparently, he understood me perfectly as well.

      “So what’s wrong with your sensor?” he asked again.

      And then he stared at me, his eyes widened, and

      pointing his index finger at my chest, he said:

      “Where’s your cube? Cube?!” he repeated twice,

      while pointing at some red cube hanging on his

      chest. Then I began to absentmindedly examine

      myself, and everything in me said that I didn’t

      understand what cube he was talking about.

      “Cube!!!” he almost panicked. Then his voice

      dropped to a whisper, and taking my hand, he led

      me aside. Looking around suspiciously, he asked:

      “Are you one of them?” he mysteriously pointed

      his finger upward.

      At this point, I couldn’t hold back anymore and

      gave in to my emotions. In a raised voice, I yelled:

      “What the hell is going on here? Where am I and

      how did I get here?”

      I was gesticulating wildly. In short, I let off

      steam.

      “Do you… have emotions?” he asked with surprise

      and even, I would say, awe in his drawn-out voice.

      “So you’re from the elite? A golden cube?”

      “What cube?! What elite?!”

      The stranger’s eyes changed. With concern, he took

      my hand and led us into the shadows, saying in a

      conspiratorial voice:

      “Are you one of the rebels?”

      “Alright, that’s enough. What rebels? What nonsense

      is this? And anyway, what’s happening? Where am I?

      No, seriously, is this Earth, planet Earth?” I

      asked, almost crying and feeling foolish.

      The stranger looked at me as if I were an idiot

      and drawled:

      “Eaaaaarth,” while taking a step back, apparently

      already wary of my reaction.

      “Earth…” I repeated in surprise. After a short

      pause, I asked again: “And what year is it?”

      I started to feel even more foolish. And a crazy

      thought about time travel flashed through my mind.

      “Yeaaaar?” the stranger continued in the same

      drawn-out manner. “2150.”

      “2150!!!” I exclaimed and immediately fell silent.

      My mind was occupied with the thought: “Oh God,

      I’m even afraid to admit it… but there are two

      options here: either I’ve somehow really traveled

      through time, just like in the movies, or I’m in

      a coma after the fall and all this… Well, it all

      seems very real…” I reasoned, biting my lip.

      Apparently, I was reasoning out loud, and my savior

      said:

      “Okay, let’s go to my place and figure out who you

      are, where you’re from, and why you’re here. I

      don’t