Leucogram
Now, when my life is approaching its end, I am wondering, what was the reason for it? They kept harping about the call of duty, the honor of warrior and the death of hero. Yes, that’s correct. In my salad days, I, as every young soldier, was given a training in a specialized camp, where we had been instructed in reconnaissance, camouflaging and offensive posture. Political training was a part of our coaching; it was to provide us with the combat spirit and to work us to think al functioning of the Organism, was that highest reason. But what was the aim of the Organism itself? Because it should have one. Our instructors never explained us. Probably they did not know. I asked Alex, too. But he, too, did not know. Our enemy was sly, large in number and well-organized. Compact teams of its scouts were searching and sniffing for our weak points, any drawbacks in the line of defense. When they managed to pass our border posts unnoticed, they started their vigorous multiplication by using communication aids very difficult to neutralize. Their multiplication capacity was enormous. Then, local wars burst out. Some of our enemies were just tiny, which means they were extremely difficult to be noticed and killed, they could intrude into our information systems, where we kept our secret information code, plant their programs into it and re-arrange our production so that they could produce innumerable copies of themselves from our to rebuild our production in such a way that, using our raw materials and our technologies, to produce numerous copies of our opponents. Enemies multiplied exponentially and captured more and more territories. The fight against them turned into the global-scale battle, as the very existence of the Organism, as a whole unit, was endangered and the only aim, that Victory over the enemy, required huge efforts and huge victims. Then, came long and hard period of recovery of destroyed structures. Justice should be paid to our enemies, their number thousand times larger than ours, their diversity and capacity of fast changing, both exterior and interior, their skill in quick invention of ever later means of aggression. Their fantasy knew no boundaries. Sometimes, they did minor subversions, their small squads hid in our food and entered our territories. They could attack from the air or penetrate with water. Or they started vigorous and uncontrollable multiplying, the way the locusts do, and their crowds swept everything off their way. They were rather difficult to stop. Then they abruptly changed the slogans on their banners and turned from relatively harmless neighbors into aggressive invaders, spilling a very poisonous liquid that dissolved our barricades and killed our soldiers. And we neither had any personal protection for that liquid nor knew any method of its neutralization. Sometimes, winged vampires attacked, stung our soldiers and civilians and planted into their bodies. At first it seemed as if nothing had happened, and we, in trouble and hope, were watching our comrades. Yet, after a while, their ever so familiar features began losing their shape, became unrecognizable, huge, enormous, and triggered uncontrollable division and multiplication. They did not listen to their commanders, gulped the food down, thus gaining unusual physical strength. They had to be killed, and that was uneasy and painful thing to do. Our commanders had to take hard decision on the liquidation of our former comrades-in-arms, they were dragging and waiting, missing the best moment. As the result, the optimal moment was usually missed and the liquidation turned into a local internal conflict with significant losses of our manpower. We were under the permanent stress. We could not relax even for a minute. But recently, our environment became much worse. From time to time, out of nowhere, huge amounts of some highly toxic liquid ended up in our irrigation systems, evaporated its poison into the air and intoxicated us. Visibility reduced in an instant, and we just could not follow our enemy. It took us a long time to come to our senses after. These toxic floods came in increasing frequency. We did not know what was ahead for us, and only guesses there would be nothing good. My friend Alex thought the end of the world was near. The Apocalypse. All our lives, we were defending the Organism, thousands of my friends were killed in front of my eyes at the battlefield, but it looks like the Organism will die in any case. Evidently, Alex is right. But what can we do? Nothing. Decent death is the only thing we can do.
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Now, when my life is approaching its end, I am wondering, what was the reason for it? And it is approaching, definitely. Aleksey watched his reflection in the mirror. Clearly visible grey mixed with yellow on his face. His cheeks grew hollow, his arms and legs turned lean. But his belly rounded. Due to liquid. Ascites. He cannot fasten the button of his jeans any more. He is feeling sick. He has a pain in his head, but it generates ideas, shapes them in words and follows basic logic. So, what was the reason, if there was any? Aleksey recalled the graduation party in the medical college. Music and dancing. He is young and gifted, Masha is slim and air-light. Her friends feel envy for her. Masha has a luck. Masha’s image blurs. He cannot remember the color of her hair. Either ash-blond or dark blond… But why make any effort? For sure, she has some different color now. Should have her hair dyed, because she would not like to be grey-haired. Her friends feel sorry for her, wow, how unlucky Masha was. Her husband is an alcoholic.
So, what was the reason of life? Love? The thought of Masha rose repentance, though amorphous, old, wrapping like a cotton, amplifying the headache. But the thought of Pashka, his son pierced with a feeling of guilt. Who is to blame? He, Aleksey, who else? What is there to do? Die decently. But is a decent death possible for a person who led an indecent life? And what is the reason? Has the death have any reason if the life did not have one?
Oh yes, nothing to do. No time. Time, by the way… How much time left? Aleksey rose heavily and took Practicing Doctor Manual from the shelf. The book opened, the text was floating in front of his eyes, but the print was large and Aleksey read it without putting his glasses on. “…the prognosis is unfavorable. Life expectancy is approximately 120 days after the appearance the ascites. Cause of death: hepatic failure, bleeding from the varicose veins of the esophagus, joining an infection due to reduced immunity.." For some reason, consciousness stubbornly fixed on the word immunity. Dying from some kind of infection was especially insulting. an infection due to reduced immunity.." For some reason, consciousness stubbornly fixed on the word immunity. Dying from some kind of infection was especially insulting. Aleksey imagined milliards of leucocytes eating the microbes up. As if through the eyepiece of a very powerful and volumetric microscope he could see one leukocyte moving towards the group of coccuses, which looks like a dirty cotton lumps. Now, outgrowths are forming at the surface of the leukocyte, they are expanding, stretching, and, like tentacles, surrounding the microbes. As though the leukocyte is pulling its body on the microbes and swallows them up…Coccuses are inside its protoplasm. Now, it uses all its strength to activate its metabolism as much as possible. Its lysosomes are working hard and emit substances of hydrogen peroxide kind. Their concentration is growing and reaches its critical point. Leukocyte changes its color from yellowish to white-hot. And then mini nuclear explosion follows. The leukocyte, together with the absorbed cocci into its body, falls apart. Dying. Could it not do it? - Aleksey thought. Probably it could. Aleksey even recalled it is called an uncompleted phagocytosis. It could swallow the microbes, carry them inside and live quietly, until the old age. About five days, that’s it. After that, leukocyte membrane will burst, cytopalsm content with microbes will spill into the surrounding tissues. Some microbes will survive inside the leukocyte’s body and retain their virulence. It is because of the uncompleted phagocytosis that the infection transfers into the chronic form. And this leukocyte died. It has done its duty. It was a free choice of tiny living thing. Which means he, Aleksey, must apologize not only to Masha and Pashka but to milliards of those microscopic small creatures who were dying to let him live. He recalled science fiction films about parallel worlds. Parallel worlds are above us, under us, inside us.
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Наталья Альтаир, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №221112700071
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