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Mercenary at heart
Scott Melani
Who says that our fate is destined from above and can never be changed? The story told in this book is designed to prove you wrong.
The main character here is Michael Silver. The book is about a turning point in his life. And how he found his new place in it, overcoming on his way all the obstacles and failures.
This story is about the fact that everyone has the right to make their own choices, regardless of anyone's advice and guidance. But at the same time, also about how no matter how different we all are, family is always family. And will always come first.

Scott Melani
Mercenary at heart

Author's word

This book is meant to be the beginning of my new universe. In it, you will get to know the interesting fate of a character who, despite the contradictions and misunderstandings in his family, chose his own path and decided to make his old dream come true. While overcoming his path, he will find new friends, love and find happiness.
But his story won't end with this book, as this interesting and exciting story awaits us.
The story in this book is just one of thousands, tens, hundreds of thousands that are countless in my universe. Over time, you'll learn some of them. Some will consist of several parts. Some from one. But they will all have one thing in common: a new universe that lives by its own laws and rules.

A little about the universe
Forget about the familiar existence and structure of the modern cosmic universe. Forget that the Earth is round, that there are other planets. Imagine that our whole world is a flat map with settlements located at a certain distance from each other.
This world has nothing to do with our past, our present, or our future. Despite the fact that it contains technologies, languages, and resources that are familiar to us. Imagine a world without states, flags or nationalities. There are only cities and villages that differ in population, technology and resources. The same language is used everywhere – English. Cities and villages fall into eight categories:
1) Cities with diamond status. There are 5 of them in total. Each of them has a population of more than 50 million people. They have the highest level of development and technology.
2) Platinum cities. There are only 20 of them. Each of them has a population of 25 to 50 million people. The level of development and technology is very high, but slightly lower than that of cities with diamond status.
3) Cities with gold status. Their number is one hundred. The population in such cities varies from 10 million people to 25 million. The level of development and technology is high.
4) Cities with silver status. There are about 500 of them. They have a population of 1 million to 10 million people. The level of development of technologies and resources is average.
5) Cities with bronze status. They are also called “transport hubs” because they are most often used by routes connecting large cities. Most residents of these cities service trucks and cars and provide overnight accommodation for drivers and passengers. There are about 2,500 of them on the map. The population ranges from 100,000 to 1 million people. The level of development and resources is low.
6) Villages with a population of 30,000 to 100,000 people. There are about 5,000 of them. The level of development is minimal.
7) Villages with a population of 1,000 to 30,000 people. They are industrial areas for the manufacture of various parts for large cities and villages, as well as agricultural farms that provide food for the entire population of the planet. There are around 50,000 of them.
8) Villages with a population of less than 1,000 people. There are only 25 of them. They have the highest level of security. They are specially designed areas for the richest and most influential people on the planet to live. You can't just get here. Only with special permission, which not even all members of the rich family have. The best quality roads, the best food, the best views of natural beauty (depending on location, these can be mountains, lakes, rivers, cliffs, waterfalls and volcanoes). These villages are cottage complexes with different houses and an adjacent area decorated with sculptures, flowers and plants. They have restaurants with unlimited free food and drinks to suit all tastes. Products are supplied directly from farms via a special underground transport channel and reach the cooks' kitchens. This is done in order not to create unnecessary unpleasant noise within the villages and not to let strangers enter their territory. Fitness centers and beauty salons are also located inside to maintain the physical shape and image of residents.
The new chronology began with the unification of settlements into one integrated system, which we know to this day. Until this point in the year, the numbers were ambiguous and there were constant debates about what year it was now. Therefore, it often happened that one year could pass in one village and another in another. After all, all cities and villages were founded at different times. Apparently, this is why every settlement calculated the passage of time based on its own basis. After the unification of cities and villages, all dates were reset to zero, and at the same time, on the day of signing the joint agreement “On Unification and Mutual Assistance”, it was recognized to consider the date of signing a “New Era”. On this date, all settlements entered year zero.
According to the generally recognized belief, there was no Jesus, Buddha or other prophets and gods with whom the inhabitants associated their annals. The faith was and remains unified: faith in a bright future. It was in no way named or portrayed in artistic or literary terms. The population of the whole world simply believed that there was life after death. What exactly happens on the other side no one knows. Everyone imagines leaving this life in their own way. There are municipal temples in which the standard rites for cremation of the deceased are held. They look like small one-story buildings made of natural stone. Inside, there is a reception desk at the entrance and a common room with an elevator in the middle. The most important part is underground. On the minus first floor there are ovens for burning the bodies of the deceased, and starting from the minus second floor, several floors down, there are cubicles where the urns of the deceased are kept. The booths are most often rented by the relatives of the deceased, or are provided free of charge for a certain period of time, provided that the relative has a valid gold card of life support. There are also so-called "Places of Remembrance" on each floor, starting at minus two. These are quiet, secluded spaces that allow you to honor those who have passed away. They are also, like the booths, either rented or free of charge.
You may ask, "How is it that cities don't feud with each other over influence, resources, and territory?"
First of all, different cities have different levels of weaponry, and they are all dependent on each other. The resources that some have are not available to others. There is no point in feuding. A more productive and rational way is to establish and build partnerships on mutually beneficial terms. Diamond-status cities have the most advanced and powerful arsenal of weapons. If desired, they can wipe out all others. The board just needs to snap its fingers. Third, settlements, regardless of size, have no such institution as an army. There are few police to maintain order and private security companies.
All towns and villages have a democratic form of government. That is, every five years, a town mayor or headman (depending on the status of the settlement) is elected by an absolute majority of votes of townspeople and villagers taking part in voting. In cities, in addition to the mayor, whose powers include approving general city policy and signing ordinances, there is a city council. It is formed by the city manager from representatives of various sectors of the economy. When the mayor changes, the council changes accordingly, because every city manager wants to have a team he can trust 100%. Of course, this system is not without flaws, because the leaders have their families, friends and acquaintances, whose interests are actively lobbied by the authorities. But society has accepted such a system. Of course, there are masses dissatisfied with it, including among influential businessmen, but it has never come to general uprisings and rallies. More often than not, protests have been accompanied by peaceful demonstrations.
Since the establishment of the generally accepted treaty, the monetary unit in all towns and villages has been one – the Eurodollar. No alternative currencies exist anywhere. They existed before. But society realized that this was extremely inconvenient, as there were over 53,000 currencies.
There were earlier attempts to unify localities. First into several separate states, then into one. But these ideas did not justify themselves. They only fueled the ground for world and civil wars. In each city, in each village there were the most wealthy people, compared to the rest of the local population, who did not want to lose their power and property, money and wealth. So it was decided: let everything remain as it is. No states or unions. Only separate localities, each with its own orders and power. Depending on the territory – their own minerals and deposits.
At the signing of the universal treaty, a detailed map with territorial division was drawn up, where it was clearly indicated: who owns what territory, and where there are zones of common use. So-called "neutral zones". They are most often used for illegal transactions outside of settlements and gang warfare.
Again the system was invented, not without flaws, which the overwhelming number of the population accepted. Most of all, the town leaders and headmen wanted to put an end to wars and violence and concentrate on the mundane life of fixing and developing the economy of their towns and villages. On top of that, wars caused nothing but trouble.
All armies were disbanded. It was decided that henceforth, after the signing of the treaty, the settlements would have only a small number of well-armed police units with broad powers during their service. Its main task is to maintain order within the city and to enforce border control.
The population, as usual, pays town or village taxes into the municipal treasury. In return, the localities are obliged to provide basic social security in the form of education, medicine and emergency care. It is possible to choose one's social security plan depending on one's financial situation. Some preferred plans even have a number of significant benefits, such as auto and medical coverage. Contribution amounts are independent of paychecks. Each adult chooses for themselves and their children the plan they can afford. Payments are made on a monthly basis. It is similar to the payment for cell phone service. These tariffs are officially called "Life Support Cards" (LSC). In addition to the LSC, each citizen has a personal card that contains basic information about him/her.
There are four life support packages. The first one is mandatory for everyone. Below is a table describing the existing social security cards. The higher the status of the locality, the higher the monthly contributions, the lower it is, the correspondingly smaller they are.
The situation is exactly the same with salaries. A list of average salaries is given in the list below:
Cities with diamond status: 15000 Eurodollars/month.
Cities with platinum status: 10000 Eurodollars/month.
Gold cities: 7000 Eurodollars/month.
Silver cities: 5000 Eurodollars/month.
Cities with bronze status: 3000 eurodollars/month.
Villages from 30 thousand to 100 thousand: 1500 Eurodollars/month.
Villages from 1 thousand to 30 thousand: 700 Eurodollars/month.
Villages up to 1 thousand: 15000 eurodollars/month.
Let us understand at once why in elite settlements salaries are at the level of cities with diamond status. The fact is that people live there who are prepared to pay well only for the best of everything. The best cooks, security guards, trainers, beauty masters and even cleaners. The first three categories are hired only from diamond and platinum status cities. The last two are no lower than from silver status cities. How do you get a job like this? Only through an acquaintance or personal recommendation. You can't just pop in off the street. All staff is accommodated in special hotels on the territory of elite villages and undergoes a particularly thorough check for involvement in crime and connections with it. Employees are not allowed to leave. You live where you work. However, you will have to give up your family, as the residence does not apply to family members of servants. Only employees. Of course, there are cases when people keep their families and send most of their earnings to help their relatives. But this happens very rarely.
Things are quite different with mercenary salaries. They don't have a steady paycheck. They work from order to order. You work, you get paid. Some are self-employed, some work for organisations that provide this kind of service. And it's not necessarily related to crime. There are orders such as ‘serve, bring’. But on their fulfilment do not earn a lot. If you really want to get good money, then you need to take on the ‘black’ or ‘dirty orders’. They are 100% related to crime and illegal activities, as well as involve violence and cruelty. Such cases are carried out through intermediaries, which are just the mercenaries. For their fulfilment they are already paid very well, but it is extremely difficult to get such orders without the appropriate reputation. Since no one will want to deal with amateurs.

Intro
762. A dark-haired young man of twenty-four, dressed in a light jacket and jeans, stands on the edge of the roof of a fifteen-storey building. It offers a great view of the neighbouring outdoor football stadium nearby. The vaults and fa?ade of the sports facility are brightly lit with lanterns. A major annual fight tournament is scheduled to take place, with some of Ounvilshen's top fighters scheduled to participate. On the artificial turf, in the middle of the field, a couple of metres above the ground, a ring has been erected for the future competition. Its flooring was square and dark blue in colour, and the ropes enclosing its perimeter were red. The stands were still half-empty, as the fans had only recently started to be launched. The guy was carefully watching what was happening in the stadium through his binoculars. With one hand he was occasionally tweaking a couple of wheels on it, responsible for adjusting the clarity and range of the image. On the roof, not far from him, was a large black bag with the necessary equipment for his mission.
Finally, the boy lowered the hand holding the binoculars and walked along the roof to the other end and looked down. He was no longer afraid of heights, as he had successfully overcome this phobia after a series of tests. Below was a small street with cars parked on the pavement and the edge of the metal roof over the entrance to the building. Pedestrians were darting along the pavement, going wherever they were going: home, from work, from school, to the shop, to the stadium, for a walk. The phone rang. The guy took it out of his jeans pocket and put it to his ear.
The voice in the receiver, ‘Michael, I'm here. How's it going in there? Are you ready?’
Michael: ‘Ready as I'll ever be.’
Voice on the phone: ‘Well, if this thing works out, you'll be able to live a quiet life. In addition, this may be our last assignment together.’
Michael: ‘Don't say that, Fred. I think we'll still have time to work together.’
The voice in the receiver: ‘Well, I wish you good luck, and may everything go well the first time. You understand me? We may not get another chance, so follow through and let's get this over with once and for all.’
Michael: ‘I heard you. Thank you. I'll do my best. If I don't come back, leave without me.’
The guy tucked the phone away in his pocket and, after another walk around and survey of the roof's perimeter, went back to his observation post and started looking for the person he needed in the stands.
Michael (out loud): ‘Where are you? Show yourself…’

Childhood and adolescence

The early years
738. On a late January evening, four men were relaxing in an Ounvilshen bar after a hard day's work. Among them was Michael's father George. He was socialising with his friends, drinking beer from a large glass mug. The atmosphere was relaxed and comfortable. Everyone was sharing their latest news and problems with the others. The mates listened to each other and supported each other. Finally, it was George's turn when all the problems and news of the others were sorted out.
Fred: ‘So, what's new with you?’
George: ‘Nothing in terms of work. Things are going pretty well, but not well enough to close the mortgage and feel secure in the full sense of the word.’
Buddy #1: ‘Ha ha, who here feels well-off? Look at you, finding the problem. You can never have too much money.’
George: ‘I mean, our expenses are about to multiply…’
Fred: ‘What do you mean?’
George: ‘Folks, I'm gonna be a daddy soon! That's what I want to drink to!’
Fred: ‘When?’
George: ‘The doctors said late February to mid-March.’
Fred: ‘Oh, you're so quiet! Let me give you a hug, Silver!’
Buddy #2: ‘What's it gonna be? A boy or a girl?’
George: ‘A boy.’
Buddy #1: ‘Have you thought about a name yet?’
George: ‘Yeah, we're going to call it Michael. We both like that name. There's no other options.’
Fred: ‘Well, let's drink to the future Michael Silver and his glorious father. May the kid be born healthy and strong and show this world that the Silvers are no hooey!’
The friends roared, and each began to clink their beer-filled mugs with each other. Some had beer overflowing over the edge, dripping onto the table and leaving small puddles.
745, summer. Michael sat on the penultimate step of the stairs at his parents' house. George was standing in front of him, bent over, tying the laces of the boy's trainers. His father shook his head and pronounced: ‘Okay, that's it. It's done. But, you know, it's about time you learnt to tie your own shoelaces. You might start getting teased at school because you don't know how to do it.’
Michael: ‘Dad, why do we have to go to that zoo? I don't want to go there. Can I stay home?’
George helped his son up, looked at him and squatted down to be at the same height as his son.
George: ‘Michael, this is, after all, just a group trip together. You'll visit another city, they'll give you a tour, and you'll see the zoo. You've never been there. How do you know it won't be interesting? Maybe you'll like it!’
Michael: ‘Are you coming with me, too? I know the other kids' parents will be there.’
George: ‘Unfortunately, I won't be able to. I have another flight to catch in a couple of hours. But I'll be mentally with you. Okay? And I'll see you again tomorrow already.’
Michael lowered his head and stared at the floor. George touched his fingers to his son's chin and gently lifted his head up so that he was looking into his eyes.
George: ‘Look, we'll definitely go out somewhere, the three of us: you, me and Mum. Like an amusement park. We'll ride the slides till we're nauseous. Would you like that? It's just that I really can't get off work right now. You know?’
Michael smiled, nodded animatedly, and hugged his father tightly. He hugged him back. Then he stood up to his full height, took his son's hand and opened the front door to the street.
George: ‘Okay, let's go, the bus leaves school in 30 minutes. Don't forget your rucksack…’
747, September. It was a warm sunny day. Michael and Fred were sitting on a bench in one of Ounvilshen's parks. Michael was dangling his legs back and forth as the bench was still a little high for him. He was leaning on the bench with one hand, and in the other he was holding a cream ice cream cone in a waffle cone, drips from which slowly dripped down his fingers and fell onto his clothes and onto the bench. Fred was reading the newspaper, cross-legged.
Michael: ‘We've been waiting for him for half an hour…I don't think he's coming any more. We'll go without him as usual…’
Fred broke away from reading the newspaper and looked at the boy, putting it aside.
Fred: ‘Please don't be angry with your father. I know you wish he would spend more time with you besides dinners. But, believe me, some people don't even see their fathers that way. He's trying really hard, Michael. For you and for Mum.’
Michael sighed: ‘Yeah I understand. It's just that we've been planning this trip to the moon park for so long, postponed it many times, and now I'm here and he's not here again…’
Fred: ‘It's not “didn't make it”, it's “couldn't make it”. These are different phrases. In the first, the person didn't come of his own free will because he just didn't want to. And in the second, the person didn't come due to circumstances beyond their control.’
Michael jumped off the bench and headed towards the entrance to the Luna Park, ‘No matter how you look at it, the result is the same in the end.’
Fred quickly jumped down from his seat, grabbed the items on the bench and ran after Michael, leaving the unread newspaper there. It remained where it had been. The wind blew and flipped through a few pages, as if reading today's city news in passing.
After Michael turned 10 years old, something changed in his mind in terms of thinking and relating to his father. And also his work. He realised that there were more important issues than whether or not to go to the moon park. That there are certain responsibilities in a family that need to be fulfilled.
From the moment Michael entered the transport school, George thought from the beginning that in the future he would employ his son in his company. That the one at the initial stage to gain practical experience and help him in the implementation of orders, receiving for this his share of the profits. And then, after working a decent amount of time and understanding how the whole kitchen is organised, and completely become its co-owner, receiving a share in the form of 50% of the total profit. George himself planned to retire in time in the full knowledge that his life's work was in good hands. But for the time being, there was no such talk. His father believed that it was too early to have them and that he should let the boy enjoy his childhood as much as possible.
It was a family tradition to gather around the dinner table and share with each other the news, achievements and failures of the day. This tradition was started by George. It strengthened family relationships from within, giving family members insight into the challenges each of them faced, helping them to work together to address their circumstances and providing sufficient and appropriate support. Generally, relationships within the family were trusting. No one tried to hide anything from each other – whether it was problems at work or at school, with colleagues or classmates. Everyone understood that family is a place where you can talk and share with others.
His parents made sure that Michael had a silver life support card throughout his childhood, up to the age of 18. He was even jokingly called ‘silver boy’ at school, although there were quite a few other kids like him. After all, the security card covered most of the medical expenses, including medicines. And there weren't many children who were completely healthy. Everyone was sick from time to time. Knowledgeable doctors were most often located in cities no lower than silver status, which still had to be reached. For this purpose, it was necessary to pay a daily intercity LWC at a high rate, but even this did not cover all the costs associated with, for example, complex operations in a foreign city. Therefore, if something really serious happened with health problems, the investment in the GLC, even with gold status, did not pay off, because they had to go to another major city, where the card of the conditional Ounvilshen was no longer valid.
Michael was very lucky with his parents. They had a strong family, whose relationships were built on mutual trust and respect. His mother worked as a waitress in a small cafeteria, his father as a driver for transporting goods of various complexity. It was decided that the son would follow in his father's footsteps and also become a driver. Although the choice of school for the future profession was not easy for the parents. The thing is that when passing the final tests there were several areas in which the boy could prove himself: programming, martial arts, vehicles and weapons. There was no doubt that he could make a good mercenary. But considering how many risks this profession entailed, the parents decided that it would be better for the child to choose a more calm and understandable direction. So they gave him to the school of transport. Michael's talents were good, plus the very idea of continuing his father's work bribed him with its traditionalism. Especially since it was not a job for hire, but a continuation of the family business. George worked for himself: he had a small firm, co-operating with partners in terms of receiving orders and renting transport for transporting goods. He had his own rather small personal lorry, which was not suitable for every job.
Since cities with bronze status are transport hubs and specialise in transport, the boy began to master most of the existing land, surface and air vehicles. The training vehicles were designed specifically to suit the modest stature of the trainees (scaled down prototypes of the original versions). Practice and training took place not only in the city where Michael grew up, but also in other cities. As it would be impossible to fit all the transport on the territory of one school. By the end of his training Michael should have been able to drive all types of existing transport. At least, that is what was recorded in the graduation certificate.
By his character, Michael has always been a determined, persistent boy, trying to study diligently, so as not to let down the expectations of his parents. After all, they did everything possible for him to live comfortably. Adherence to family values, attitudes and traditions has always been a priority for Michael, but already at the age of 14 he realised what path he wanted to follow, regardless of parental expectations. Yes, due to the existence of a certain education system, he was obliged to follow it. To graduate from what he had begun to learn. But after graduation, when adulthood was to begin, the boy set his sights on reaching a completely different level in terms of finances, opportunities, and influence. There were plenty of such ambitious boys and girls graduating. However, not every child achieved their goals and resigned themselves to an ordinary life.
George was involved in transporting cargoes of various categories, from foodstuffs to military equipment and explosive chemicals. In addition to him, there were three other drivers on staff. A logistician was given separate authority, organising the shortest, least congested and safest routes. From time to time George also had to hire a team of mercenaries to escort the cargo and make sure it got from point A to point B smoothly. It was a small group of four men that he had been working with for quite some time.
The leader of this group was named Fred. Yes, the same Fred they'd sat in the bar with. And who was so genuinely excited about Michael's imminent birth. By the time the boy was just 14, Fred was 52 years old. He looked like a typical daredevil: a T-shirt with a giant skull print on the chest, a black leather waistcoat with no buttons, pierced ears with piercings, red lenses, worn torn long shorts and black sports trainers with ornaments on the edges. Behind his back hung a short-barreled shotgun, with ammunition on his belt. At his sides were pistols in holsters. His group had two identical brown Safari jeeps with machine guns instead of back seats. George felt quite secure with mercenaries with such a solid combat arsenal accompanying him.
During the transport, one jeep was in front of George's car and the other was behind it. Since Michael's father and Fred were best friends, and the former was a regular customer, Fred always gave a substantial discount on his group's services. In addition, he was a frequent guest at the Silver house. He could even come uninvited to a party, or just show up when he had some free time on his hands. At the table Fred often talked about his orders and the trouble he'd been in lately.
Michael always admired him: his courage and bravery, fearlessness and selflessness. Secretly from his parents, the boy always dreamed that when he became an adult, he would be trained for the military, becoming a successful mercenary like Fred. He dreamed that he would help the local population and protect them from trouble. A bright pipe dream of a naive boy immersed in his dreams. Only then he didn't know that such a job involved not only good deeds, but also dirty orders, which Fred deliberately didn't tell him anything about.

Good news
753. It was spring. The buds on the trees in Ounvilshen began to blossom and flowers woke up from their winter hibernation. The town was filled with the wonderful colours and smells of blossoming plants. April was approaching, which Michael had always looked forward to. It was his birthday that month, and every year he and his family would go out and have fun. George had arranged his schedule so that he wouldn't take bookings at this time, or at least not participate in them, and Mariana would take a couple of days off. There was no such thing as a holiday. The cities had no social security or pension fund. Employers refused to pay for days off, but with advance notice they would at least provide them.
The Silvers lived in the industrial area of the city, which was mostly machine shops and private sectors made up of small one- and two-storey simple houses. Some of which had broken tiles or other minor damage. The location was not chosen at random, but primarily for George's business orientation. In addition, property prices were many times lower than in any bedroom community in Ounvilshen.
Compared to other buildings, the Silver house looked tidy and had a fairly large area. It had two floors with a total usable area of about 110 square metres. In the backyard was a small garden, which was tended by Mariana. Next to the house stood two garages, one of which was mostly used as a storage room. It held tools and boxes of old junk. The other was for George's rented vehicles, which he temporarily left outside before his next assignment.
An ordinary evening in a warm, family atmosphere. Mariana scurried back and forth, serving the food and clearing away the excess from the table. George and Michael sat opposite each other, as befitted the heads of the family, and talked. From time to time Mum also kept the conversation going. The dialogue was about everyday life: about Michael's success at school, about his father's recent orders, about his mother's clients and about the upcoming practice of the boy.
– I have a surprise for you. I think you'll like it. – George turned to his son intrigued, putting a solid piece of chicken fillet in his mouth. Mariana came quickly to the table, dropping everything she was doing. She took her seat, resting her face on both palms and looking at her husband.
– We're all listening to you very carefully, darling! – Mariana said animatedly, watching Michael's father chewing the chicken she had prepared.
– Anyway, I'm not going to wait and I'll tell you straight. Soon you'll be fifteen years old. And I think you've had enough of polishing your training prototypes. It's time to get down to business! I've arranged with the headmaster of your school that this year you'll be interning at our firm's headquarters under my close supervision. In short, from tomorrow we'll work together and I'll take you on assignments. – George began his short monologue, but did not have time to finish it, because Mariana jumped off the chair and began to hug him tightly and kissed him on the cheeks and in the eyes.
– Mariana exclaimed during her passionate outburst.
– Mana, Michael's watching! Stop it…,’ George said quietly and embarrassed.
– It's okay, Dad! It's really cool! Let me give you a hug too! – said the son, getting up from the table and walking over to his father. Then the child hugged him tightly and pressed against his shoulder.
– That's it. That's enough, that's enough. We're having a party,’ George laughed, hugging the family back.
– Take your seats, we really have a lot to discuss. – Silver Sr. said seriously. Mariana and Michael obeyed him and returned to their seats, continuing to listen carefully to the information.
– So, as you realise, this is a big step towards your bright future, so you need to take it as seriously and responsibly as possible. Even though we're family, I'm going to treat you the same way I treat the rest of the staff. Perhaps even more demanding. But it's all for your own good. Once you get a job or start your own business – life will not give you any favours. On the way will constantly arise problems and turmoil, which must be solved independently on the basis of experience and knowledge. It is not enough just to turn the steering wheel and press the accelerator. Over time, you will realise that the transport business is a much more complex process than it seems at first glance. You don't have much experience in driving yet, but I think you should be able to handle this baby. Come on! – George finished his monologue, and everyone headed for the exit of the house.
There was another car in the parking lot next to my father's truck, an old generation yellow passenger car with gray decorative stripes on the sides. The seats were covered with dark brown leather covers, and the interior trim was made of high-quality wood material. On the roof, above the front seats, there was a rectangular glass sunroof with an opening mechanism.
– What do you think? Do you like it? – George said proudly with a smile, crossing his arms over his chest.
– Am I going to drive it? By yourself? – Michael answered the question with a surprised question.
George: “We'll take turns. 50-50. Half the road you drive, the other half I drive.”
Michael: “A-F-I-GET! How long are we going to be traveling for?”
George: “About 600 kilometers. We have to deliver it to a powerful businessman in New Hampshire. It's his car. It broke down and he left it here for repairs. It's a legend, even if it is a bit old! We'll take the truck back. I've already caught the next order. We'll have to deliver it to Lockfood City. We'll hitch a ride home from there. But that's not far from here. Think of it as your first little real adventure.”
Michael moved closer to the car to get a closer look at it, “Dad, thank you so much! I won't let you down! And Fred, will he be guarding us?”
George: “There's no need for that. We'll manage on our own. And remember, this is just the beginning of your journey. It's only going to get more interesting from here. All right, let's go get some rest. We have a long road ahead of us tomorrow.”
He put his arm around Mariana's waist. His parents went slowly into the house, talking about the day ahead, and Michael stayed near the car for a while, imagining in his head how he would drive it very soon.
“Six-speed manual transmission, all-wheel drive, interactive dashboard, top speed can reach 360 km/h. It's a beast of a car! I can't even believe that tomorrow I will drive it!” – Michael thought to himself, stroking the car on the roof. He spent about thirty minutes near the car, looking at it from all sides, and then went to his room to rest. His head was full of thoughts about the day ahead.

The first field practice
The morning began with an alarm clock. He had to wake up early, because the car had to be delivered only up to a certain time, and it took about six, seven hours to get there. Even taking into account the capabilities of the car, George was an advocate of quiet driving and preferred to perform delivery to the destination extremely carefully, without leaving any visible damage on the object. Therefore, Michael did not have to count on high speed. On the highway – a maximum of 120 km / h, on the highway – 90, within the city – 50. Mariana fed the family with scrambled eggs and bacon and gave them some sandwiches for the road, putting them in plastic containers.
George: “Don't forget to bring your learner's card with you so the police won't have any unnecessary questions: why are you at 14 already driving a car?”
The point is that depending on the chosen direction, the child was granted certain privileges related to education. For example, Michael studied at a transportation school, so he had the right to drive cars and some trucks under the supervision of an adult from the age of 14. But this was possible only if he had a student card, confirming that he was a student of a specialized school. Others had to wait until they were 18 years old to complete a six-month course in driving a passenger car.
– I already did. – Michael answered, waving his small black square wallet. All three of them went outside. Mariana wished them a good trip and stayed on the doorstep, waving goodbye every now and then. Michael joyfully headed for the driver's door of the car.
– Sit in the passenger seat. First I'll take control of the car, to see what this little girl is capable of. We'll switch on the road, don't worry. – George stopped him, slightly holding his son's hand. Michael wasn't upset. He was happy just to sit in the cabin of such a car. George started the car and drove off in the desired direction.
Michael took out of his bag a small rectangular device that displayed a map and route. It had a small number of buttons on the end and on the sides. The boy knew how to use this device, since he had already been trained on it. The device was called “Logist” and was one of the key tools for drivers. In addition to the navigator function, which was lined up with the Logistician, which tracked in real time the movement of the target, the device acted as an “SOS” depending on the command, sending a distress signal along with the current location to the nearest workshops, ambulance or police patrols.
George had an earpiece with a built-in microphone attached to his ear, connected wirelessly to both the Logiste and the phone. The driver could use it to talk to customers and his staff. Occasionally, Mariana would call the same way, to see how her husband was doing at work. The route was routed through several villages and towns with bronze and silver status. The terminus was New Hampshire. It was a platinum status town. Michael had never been to towns with status higher than silver, so this was quite the journey for him. Not only would he get to see new small towns, but he would also get to visit a giant metropolis.
Villages and towns were connected by roads with nothing living around them. Either desert or impassable thickets of bushes and trees. The reason for this was clear – ownerless territory that no one had ever taken care of. According to such rules, the borders of settlements were divided, leaving neutral, ownerless territories between them. It was in these ownerless areas that the outcasts, unwanted and despised by society, existed. Some of them banded together to try to survive, occasionally raiding passing traffic or attempting to storm towns. True, they usually didn't pose much of a threat. After all, before they were driven out of town, all their possessions were taken from them. So they didn't have any weapons. The most they could attack with was fists, stones, or sticks they had gotten on the road. And considering the fact that cargo and transportation were most often guarded by well-armed mercenaries or private guards, the outcasts had no chance of success. It was more like certain death.
George drove up to the checkpoint at the exit from Ounvilshen and joined the smallest queue. Since no documents had to be stamped, but only personal cards scanned by a special bar code, the line moved quickly enough. Only heavy trucks were subjected to special inspection for the presence of prohibited goods on board, but a separate lane was allocated for them so as not to impede the movement of other traffic.
Finally it was Michael and George's turn. They stopped in front of the inspector's window. It was on the right side of the car. In front of the checkpoint was a barrier and a license plate scanner built into it, which recorded the license plate number, and a computer program extracted all the other data on the car and its owner. In the booth sat a city policeman with a laptop computer at his desk. He was dressed in a long-sleeved service uniform in the color of the city's yellow and purple flag. Underneath his police uniform was a bulletproof vest in the form of thermal underwear. Such body armor was very lightweight and was considered the most common protection for city police officers because it covered most of the body.
Policeman: “Where are you going?”
George: “Making a delivery to a customer.”
Policeman: “What kind of goods?”
George: “It's an auto.”
The policeman looked out of the window and looked at the car, formally inspecting the car.
Policeman: “Your papers.”
Michael held out his personal cards to him. The police officer scanned them, then handed them back to the boy.
Policeman: “You can go now.”
George: “Thank you officer, have a good day.”
The barrier turned green and went up. The path was open and the car moved on, following the designated route. After a while, having traveled about 150 km, the transporters stopped in a large village at the gas station through which their route passed. Both got out of the car while the gas station attendant filled the tank with fuel.
– Well, are you ready? – George put his hand on Michael's shoulder.
Michael: “Sure!”
George: “Then get behind the wheel. You drive from here. Just don't drive too fast! You know my rules.”
Michael nodded, then opened the door and got into the driver's seat. George settled into the front passenger seat and leaned back, taking the Logiste in his hands.
George: “All right, let's go, no need to linger at the transfer points. We're wasting time. After the parking lot, turn immediately to the right. Gerri has changed the route as there will be a traffic jam ahead. Probably some kind of accident.”
Michael adjusted the seat, started the car, shifted gears, and they headed in a new direction.
George: “It's a dirt road that runs parallel to the main highway. According to the map, we should get onto the main highway just after the jam.”
The quality of the road was terrible. It was strewn with small stones and shallow potholes. The weather was sunny and dry, which made it easy to navigate due to good visibility and no impassable mud. On the right side of the road was a vast desert without a single plant, and on the left side of the road could be seen the nearest residential buildings belonging to the village from which the carriers had left. Rain was a luxury for this region. Michael moved slowly, afraid of damaging the wheels and suspension of the car. The bypass was only eight kilometers long, and it was rarely used, so there was not much time to wait. Given the poor quality of the roadway, the low popularity of its use was understandable.
A passenger car appeared ahead, standing on the side of the road. It was surrounded by a group of three men. They were dressed in tattered and torn clothes and armed with metal cylinders about 50-70 centimeters long. The group behaved aggressively and occasionally hit the body of the car with their weapons.
– Outcasts! – George hissed through his teeth and leaned forward, trying to see what was going on.
George: “Michael, whatever happens, don't stop. If they get in the road, push them. Go around them on the opposite side of the road.”
The Silvers gradually approached the damaged car. Michael did as he was told and drove into the oncoming lane before his car was on the side of the road. None of the assailants, to Michael's luck, got into the road. They only cast an angry glance in the direction of the Silver's. So Michael could drive safely past without getting into trouble. It was at this point that the cars came together. In the driver's seat of the other car was a man in his 40s. He was immobilized: his head was hanging down, his arms were down. The windshield of the older sedan was shattered. In the back seat was a boy about ten years old, no more. He sat with his legs up on the seat and his arms wrapped around them. He cast a pleading glance in the direction of the Silver's passing car, then rested his head in his lap.
George: “Michael, there's a baby in there! There's a baby inside the cabin! Pull over!”
Michael moved to the right side of the road and abruptly stopped the car about 150 feet from the victims. George opened the glove compartment, put the Logistician in there and pulled out a gun.
Michael: “Where did you get the…”
– Fred gave it to him. Michael: “Stay where you are and keep your head down. I'll be back. Lock the doors after I get out! If the outcasts attack, chase them away. – George interrupted his son. He got out of the car, standing in a fighting stance and aiming his weapon at the attackers, starting to slowly approach them. Michael didn't have time to say a word. All he had to do was obey and do as his father told him. After all, his intervention would be of little use. So the boy stayed in the car, locked the doors and half-turned to watch what was happening.
– Come on, let's get out of here! Leave the poor people alone! Get at least 100 meters away from the car! – George ordered the group, waving his pistol at them. The outcasts turned to him and lined up in a single line, tapping their palms defiantly with metal cylinders. There was only a small space between them. George fired a warning shot into the ground. Instantly the sound of gunfire rippled across the desert and the bullet sank into the soft ground not far from the attackers.
George: “Quick, I said! I'm not kidding!”
Michael turned back, staring out the windshield in front of him. He began to analyze, “How come the car's windshield was shattered and the driver killed if the attackers were only armed with metal sticks? The car could have easily knocked them down and by and large not gotten a single scratch, even at a speed of 40-50 km/h. So we missed something. Something we didn't see. Some danger!”
Another shot rang out, then a second and a third in succession. Michael turned around again. George had collapsed to the ground. Fresh blood oozed from his wounds. Michael's hands shook. He frantically rushed to the glove compartment to pull out the Logistician and check how far away the ambulance and police patrols George had called were. The map showed that the area was not served by any population centers and there was no signal. There was nowhere to go for help.
– What do we do? Think, think…” Michael asked himself, clenching his fingers into fists and wrapping them around his head. He was very frightened.
The line of three men parted, and a fourth man appeared. He was different from the others. It was obvious that he was their leader. His face was covered by a protective black mask with metal tubes in the middle, and he wore an old-style protective body armor over his bare body, as heavy as chain mail. On his legs were black knit pants and boots, and on his hands were leather gloves with spikes on the knuckles. The thug held two large-caliber pistols, which he pointed toward George.
– And you thought you and I were going to fight on sticks. You thought you were going to be a hero, and look where it got you,” the leader of the group leaned toward George, breathing heavily through his metal tubes. He grabbed the gun that had fallen out of Michael's father's hands and threw it toward his group. Some of the men picked it up.
The masked man continued: “You're not a mercenary and never have been. You don't know how such matters are handled. What was all that heroism for? You don't know how to analyze the critical situation around you. And look where it's gotten you: you've hurt yourself and put your… son… in danger… I guess. What did you expect? For the police to come? Ha! I'm gonna disappoint you. This is the suburbs, baby! And the cops don't come here. It's not their territory. So there's no one to help you.”
George didn't move. His eyes were still open, and he was breathing heavily, trying to stay conscious. The masked man walked slowly toward the car where Michael was sitting. The boy straightened up. He looked back and forth at the steering wheel, the gearbox, the glove compartment, the pedals and didn't know what to do. At the same time, his father's last words flashed through his mind. Finally, he turned the ignition key, started the car and shifted gears to get going. All that was left was to release the brake pedal. There was a knock on the passenger window. Michael turned his head.
The masked man was standing across the street, pointing one of his guns at him, “Turn off the engine, kid, and get out of the car unless you want to end up like your daddy!”
There was nothing to do. Michael turned off the power to the car and got out of it. Questions ran chaotically through his mind: “What happens next? Is this the end? Has the order failed? Is the father alive? Will the police and the ambulance come? Will anyone help them? What will happen to Mom when she finds out?”
The gang leader approached Michael from behind, searched the boy, took his cell phone out of his pocket, shoved him in the back and said: “Now go to that car and sit in the back with the other kid. And sit still so I don't hear or see you, or it'll be worse!”
Michael headed toward the wrecked car. For a moment he stopped to look at his father and even wanted to approach him, but then he felt someone's hand on his neck.
– Go forward, I said! Don't make me angry! – The masked man behind him said through gritted teeth.
– Eric! Go take a look at the car. Tell me if you find anything interesting. And don't forget to take the geolocator out of it, if it's plugged in. – the thug turned to one of his goons. Michael looked away from his father in horror and continued driving. Opening the door of the wrecked car, he saw the other boy. He didn't look frightened at first glance and immediately moved to the opposite edge of the back seat, giving Michael his old seat. Silver got into the car and slammed the door behind him. Both of them were silent, neither saying a word as they watched the thugs search the expensive retro car.
– In the glove compartment only their papers and the navigator! I couldn't find anything else! The geolocator was turned off! – One of the bandits shouted, waving a small round device. His name was obviously Eric. It was clear that these were not just outcasts looking for a meal, but people with enough knowledge and skills to be able to carry on a full-fledged criminal activity.
– Bring them here,” the masked man replied. He put the documents in the back pocket of his pants, and the “Logist” carefully examined and threw him to the ground with all his might, so that he shattered into several pieces. After that, the leader kicked the monitor a few more times to make sure that the device was finally broken.
– You two get in the first car, Eric and I will drive the second one! – The masked man ordered his subordinates, pointing at each of them in turn.
– What are we going to do with the boys? – asked one of the bandits.
– They'll come with us, we'll decide later. We've done enough damage here already. It's time to get out of here! – replied the gang leader.
The group split into pairs, and the bandits took the front seats in the stolen cars. The body of the dead driver was thrown out of the car and they headed into the desert, turning off the main road. Michael looked out the rear window of the car. George continued to lie motionless, bleeding more and more by the minute. His eyes were closing and his gaze was fading. The cars were moving away, leaving shallow tracks in the sand behind them. George's body drifted farther and farther out of Michael's field of vision until it was no longer visible.

In confinement
The desert. You can't see anything but her. How could anyone navigate this place? Michael still didn't understand: How could he get out? How to help his father? Was he even alive? And how to get back home? During the ride, he took a closer look at the boy sitting next to him. He was quite sturdy for his age, with short hair, wearing a T-shirt and shorts, and a backpack with a giant sign that said “Fighting” under his feet.
– Hey, what's your name? – Michael asked the boy in a whisper.
– Theodore. – Theodore answered just as quietly. It was obvious that he wasn't afraid, or hid his fear well. It gave some confidence to Michael, seeing how the younger hostage was holding up in a difficult situation.
Michael: “How did they stop you? Where did they get the guns from?”
In front, the two thugs were also talking to each other. One of them, turned half-turned to the boys and shouted: “Shut up, you little brats! Or I'll rip your tongues out!” Then he continued his dialog with the driver:
– I hate kids! What the hell do you need them for, Reno?
– I don't know, Seth, maybe he's trying to ransom them. Maybe he's got something else in mind.
– Since when did he start selling people? Guns and cars not enough for him?
– I don't know, Seth.
– Do you know anything at all? You got one answer for everything.
After half an hour of leisurely driving, the cars stopped at a makeshift camp made of aluminum sheets, tires, sticks, barrels, and other junk. There were three other people in the camp. They were dressed no better than the invaders. The same tattered clothes, dirty, unwashed, and reeking of sweat. Apparently their own stench did not bother them at all.
– We're home,” Seth said happily, addressing either the driver or himself.
– You assholes stay in the car until they call you! If you try to run or move, we'll shoot you where you stand! – Seth said angrily, this time addressing the hostages, and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him.
– Really, guys. Just do what you are asked to do and you probably won't get hurt. – added the driver, and left the car as well. The boys were left alone with each other. They glanced at each other.
Theodore: “We were on our way from Gai to visit my father's acquaintances in another village. Hobos attacked out of nowhere. One of them pulled out guns and started shooting at us. My father did not have time to dodge, as he did not expect it, and several bullets hit him. He died of his wounds almost immediately. I was lucky I was sitting on the other side and was able to group up in time.”
Michael: “But where did they get the guns and the whole camp from? From what I've heard, they're nothing of the sort, and absolutely everything is taken from them before they're expelled.”
Theodore: “I also, like you, know nothing about this gang. Who are they and where are they from? All I can say is that they will answer for it. How old are you?”
Michael: “You'll be 15 in April, how about you?”
Theodore: “I turned 12 in February.”
Michael: “You don't look scared. You're not even scared?”
Theodore: “I'm saving my strength for revenge. I don't know what I'm going to do yet, but I'm not going to sit here.”
Michael: “Are you serious? Alone in the desert, away from the road and home. With no weapons. A twelve year old boy against seven outcasts armed with guns and sticks. What can you do?”
Theodore: “It doesn't matter who your opponent is. It doesn't matter how old you are. It matters what your plan is.”
Michael: “My God! Philosophical sayings and abstruse words for a boy who comes from a small village. No offense, of course… Where did you go to school? Where did you pick this up from?”
Theodore: “At a sports school. My father came from Lockfood City, where he got a good education. Then, after they got married, he and my mom moved to Gaia in search of a quiet life.”
Michael: “So what would your plan be? I'd just be interested to hear…not that I plan on participating in it, as it's completely absurd.”
Theodore: “I don't know yet. We need to scout the situation and figure out what we can do and how to get out of here.”
Theodore's fearlessness and courage both amazed and emboldened Michael. Although these empty words spoken by the younger captive seemed extremely amusing, considering his age and the situation in which they both found themselves. Theodore, however, was not lacking in self-confidence and courage. Michael felt as if he had been involved in a situation like this before.
One of the outcasts approached the car and began to look at the boys. It was a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks on his head and bulging red eyes, “Hey, did you bring us new meat for dinner? Are we going to have another meal of human meat tonight? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
He pulled out a knife and began to lick himself nastily, leaning the blade now and then against his tongue and then against his cheek.
– Calm down, Gorg, and lock them in a container! I have other plans for them. Just don't touch them before they're done! Otherwise dinner will be made of you tonight! – ordered a voice from the crowd.
The bandit quickly opened the door on Ted's side and said: “Welcome, dear guests! Welcome to our shawl! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
He led the boys through the camp to an enclosed shipping container at the back of the outcast settlement. The whole gang gathered in the center of the camp, around a campfire where they were burning trash, while discussing something in parallel. Despite the tragic situation in which the boys found themselves, the atmosphere in the camp was quite relaxed: the outcasts were joking, teasing each other, having fun, playing some invented games and chatting around the fire. The little hostages, however, were clearly not in the mood for fun.
The black bandit opened the container. The hostages went inside. It was empty, dark, damp, and smelled musty. The door slammed shut behind them. They could hear the bolts that closed it from the outside creaking. Time passed very slowly in the container. The boys were groping around, trying to find some object or flaw in the metal box that might help them escape the confined space. A gap in the wall would also do. But the search was unsuccessful.
Evening came. It was getting dark outside. Michael and Theodore had been held captive for half a day, still not realizing what would become of them in the future, and not imagining how they could get free. The outcasts continued to burn trash in a rusted metal tank. The outside stank of cinders and burnt rubber. It was not clear how the bandits had not yet poisoned themselves from such a constant nasty and noxious odor. It was almost as if they liked it. And they really enjoyed inhaling it into their lungs. There was no outside light, and only the fire, now and then bursting from the tank, illuminated the outer features of the camp.
The voices intensified, and rough male laughter came from far away. The radio played, tuned to the rock music wave. The outcasts were celebrating their catch of the day. It had been a good day for them: they had gotten a couple of hostages, a couple of cars, and a gun that one of them had armed himself with. And mobile devices that could be sold on the black market. A dinner of gophers they had managed to catch in the desert was planned ahead. This at least meant that the bandits would be well-fed, and there would be no need to waste the boys. The thugs cooked the meat over a fire from under the garbage with smog soaked with burnt polyethylene, clothes, paint, acids, and other junk. How could anyone even manage not to die after such a hypertoxic dinner? But the outcasts didn't have much wood, so they apparently didn't have much choice.
Up to this point, Michael had been on his feet the entire time he had been trapped in the container, because he didn't want to sit down on the dirty metal floor, but he didn't have the strength to stand any longer. So he decided to sit down next to Theodore, who was not the least bit squeamish about the fact that he had already soiled his clothes.
Michael: “Do you have any relatives besides your father?”
Theodore: “My mom died of an illness. The rest of my family abandoned me, pretending as if I never existed, so it's just me and my father… It's more accurate to say just me. Do you have a full family?”
Michael: “I'm sorry. I still have my mom in Ounwilschen. I don't know how she'll take the loss of my father and I…”
Theodore grabbed Michael's hand and shook it as hard as he could, then said: “Don't you dare bury yourself before your time. You're still alive!”
Michael, pulled his arm out: “For how long. The prospects of getting out of here are slim…”
Theodore, “Don't get discouraged! That's the last thing you should do in a situation like this!”
There were pops, roaring engines, gunshots and screams outside. It was hard to make out anything in particular. Some were screaming in pain, some were commanding, some were yelling from overwhelmed emotions.
Michael: “Get down! In case they start shooting in our direction!”
The boys quickly lay down on the floor and covered their ears with their hands so they wouldn't hear the loud noises. After a while, the screaming stopped. Only approaching footsteps and conversations of unknown people could be heard.
A man's voice: “Search the area! He must be here somewhere!”
Who were these people? Their saviors? The police? Or just another gang of outcasts vying for territory? But whoever they were, surely it couldn't get any worse than falling into the clutches of cum cannibals. Michael rose to his feet, stumbled to the door, and began pounding on it as hard as he could, begging for help: “Help! Help! We're in here!”
Theodore: “What are you doing? Sit down!”
Footsteps began to be heard closer and closer.
Female voice: “I heard something coming from that container!”
A man's voice: “I'll check it out, cover me!”
The deadbolts creaked. The door began to slowly open. Michael took a step back with his hands in the air. A faintly discernible human silhouette appeared in the opening. It was Fred. He noticed Michael and lowered his weapon, “It's okay, I found him.” Theodore rose from the ground, looking at Fred incredulously, leaving his hands raised up in the air. Michael rushed over to his savior and hugged him tightly, whispering in his ear: “I was scared. So scared…”
– You'll be fine. You'll be home soon! What's wrong with you? Don't get soft! You're not a woman! Come on, pull yourself together! – Michael was cheered up by the mercenary.
– Who's that? That other kid…” Fred asked, pointing his finger at Ted.
– That's Theodore. He's been through a lot, too. The outcasts killed his father. – Michael also whispered and introduced the second hostage to the mercenary.
Fred: “Don't be afraid, boy! We're taking you home too!”
Michael: “Fred, he has no parents left and nowhere to go.”
Fred: “Okay, we'll settle that on the way then. Anyway, first things first, we need to get out of here. Let's go!”
Together they went outside and headed toward the vehicles. The camp was brightly lit by the headlights of jeeps and motorcycles on all sides. It was no longer as lively as it had been a few hours earlier. There were lead-laden corpses of outcasts everywhere, and the already dilapidated structures they had built out of whatever they had made as shelter were ablaze. There were several groups of mercenaries present: one was Fred's group, and the second (larger) was Lauren's group. Michael knew her as well, though he didn't see her that often. From time to time, the girl also accompanied his father on trips when Fred was too busy to take orders. Michael stopped dead in his tracks. Forgetting his recent joy. He suddenly remembered, “Fred, what about my father? What about him? Did you find him? Is he alive?”
Fred turned to the boy: “The doctors are fighting for his life right now. I'll be back to see him at the hospital tomorrow. You can come with me if you want to. It's a good thing the SOS signal somehow miraculously managed to reach the logistician before losing communication. Gerry had called us, since city services don't serve the area outside of the settlement. Gathering a team, we arrived on the scene fairly promptly. First thing we did was get your father to the hospital and start looking for you. George would never forgive me if anything happened to you.
Michael breathed a sigh of relief. He was relieved. Theodore patted the boy on the back and said enthusiastically: “Lucky you! You see, we didn't even have to come up with a plan, they did it all for us! And you were afraid!”
He never ceased to amaze Michael. Unlike him, Theodore's father had recently died, and the boy was enthusiastic, upbeat, and without a trace of regret in his voice. Michael began to look over each of the dead looking for Reno. He wanted to make sure that the scumbag who had infringed on his father's life got what he deserved. The fourth body he examined belonged to the masked man. He was already dead. There was a weapon lying around the bandit, apparently dropped during the gunfight.
– It's him! The man who almost killed my father, but killed Theodore's father! – Michael said loudly, pointing at his abuser. Theodore walked over to Michael, looking angrily at the dead outcast. Ted picked up one of the guns lying near the body and began firing at his abuser until he ran out of ammunition. Despite the fact that the boy had decent physical data, even for him the recoil when firing the gun was unexpectedly strong. Therefore, his hands jumped up after each shot he fired, changing the direction of the bullet. Theodore then threw the weapon to the ground. All this was happening so close to Michael that the sounds of the shots partially deafened him. The schoolboy was not used to such loud noises. Silver covered his ears with his hands for a while, but he did it a little too late. Theodore surprised him again. Or rather, another sudden change in the minor's mood, from joy and enthusiasm to wild hatred and anger. On the other hand, when the emotions of hatred are so overwhelming, how to know what even the calmest person in the world is capable of during such a stressful and overwhelming experience.
– He's already dead, Ted, so it's not going to make him any better or worse. – Michael turned to Theodore.
– Neither am I! – Theodore replied dryly and headed toward the jeep.
– Neil, take care of the car. We need to show it to the service center and deliver it to the customer,” Fred said to his subordinate, and then he put the boys in the jeep, and they drove toward the house.
Fred: “Sorry, kid. I don't think your father will mind, but since my men will be doing most of the work, the amount of money for doing it will go to us.”
Michael: “I think that would be fair. You have done a lot for us and continue to do so. You have always been, and still are, a member of our family.”
Fred smiled: “It's nice to hear you say that, Michael. Very nice.”
Michael: “Tell me, how did you find us so quickly? After all, the Logiste was wrecked, the phones were taken out and probably turned off, and the geolocator was messed up.”
Fred: “On the last signal from the Logiste and your phone. The problem with outcasts isn't that they're stupid, it's that they think a lot of themselves…”
Michael: “Do you know who this Reno guy was? That was the name of that mercenary who injured Dad and killed Father Theodore.”
Fred: “No, I don't. But trust me, it's not that important. Unfortunately, this isn't the first time people have encountered an armed band of outcasts in the desert or anywhere else. That's why you and your father better not ride around unprotected and play heroes anymore. You don't know what people like them are capable of.
Michael: “I think we get the point. Thank you again.”
In his heart, Michael was ashamed in front of Theodore for his behavior during the danger. Why was he, a boy of almost fifteen, scared to death while his younger companion pragmatically made some rescue plans in his head? Why was a child of twelve comforting him while he himself was in a state of despair? It should have been the other way around. Michael was supposed to take on the responsibilities of an older brother. He thought about it until his eyes closed and he fell asleep.
The boys dozed off in the back seat. They heard neither the noise of the engine, nor the sound of the wind, nor the conversations of the mercenaries in front. The children's bodies needed at least a small dose of rest after such a difficult day.

A new addition to the family
Three months had passed since the incident. It was the end of June. Summer was in full swing. Ounvilshen was overflowing with greenery, which added color to the urban environment. The search for Father Theodore's body during this time had been unsuccessful. Perhaps the ambulance had disposed of his body upon arrival at the scene. And since he had a basic LSC, the remains were not provided to the relatives of the deceased. Theodore didn't want to go home, but never voiced the reason, though it was already clear. As soon as the services discovered that a minor child was living alone, he would quickly be adopted into some family and the house would be listed as a frozen estate. So Ted continued to live unofficially with the Silver family.
George has now been released from the hospital. He still had a little difficulty in moving, but in general – recovered. Michael returned to his normal life: he was fulfilling orders for his father's company, but now only under the cover of mercenaries, who accompanied him throughout the route. It was lucky that Michael went to practice at this time. After all, George had been out of the work process for quite some time. And if it wasn't for Michael, the family would have had a very difficult time financially. However, something had to be done about Theodore's stay. Even though Michael's parents continued to pay for his bronze status LSC, he was still a child. Without officially registered parents or guardians, he could not continue to live with them. At any moment, the police could come and start asking unnecessary and inconvenient questions, up to and including forcibly taking the un-legalized child away from the Silvers and imposing a huge fine. So it was decided at the family council that Ted would be officially adopted into the Silver family.
The boy really appreciated how much this family, which supposedly owed him nothing at all, did for him. Now Michael's room was divided into two parts, one of which belonged to the older child and the other to the younger. In the course of communication it became clear that Theodore's childhood was not easy: his mother died of an illness when he was not yet three years old. His father became desperate and started drinking a lot, as well as using medium and heavy drugs to forget himself. In addition, he never had warm feelings for his offspring. The poor child was left to fend for himself. Therefore, periodically in between classes and trainings Ted tried to earn a little money in a neighboring bakery. The owner of the establishment knew his situation, so she paid for the boy's labor with freshly baked pastries in the form of pizzas, bagels and croissants.
On June 21, an interview was scheduled at the municipal guardianship authority. It was necessary to arrive by 12:00 with personal documents and submit an application for adoption. The inspector will have to review all the documents and assess the living conditions, as well as the financial capacity of the family to support a second child. But this procedure is not solved instantly, but requires some time. Most often, in 85% of cases, the decision of the body is positive, if the family meets all the requirements set out. After all, it would be easier to enroll the child in a family that voluntarily wants to adopt him.
The day of the interview came. The family headed to the city administration office. Everyone was dressed in formal clothes, as if they were going to some kind of celebration. It was indeed an important event for both the adoptee and the adoptive parents. Literally 10-15 minutes later, the Silvers arrived at their destination.
George left the car in the service parking lot near the administration office. The Silvers were facing a massive five-story building, which could be entered from the north and south. There were metal detectors at the entrances and there were CCTV cameras throughout the building, constantly monitored by a security guard who sat in his small booth at the entrance. Appointments were made through the administration's website in advance, with the provision of an electronic ticket. The employees worked dynamically: according to strictly allotted time and without delays. Therefore, there was no need to stand in line. There was no elevator in the institution. We had to go up the central two-step staircase with stone handrails on the sides.
– We need room 203," George said to the others as they went up to the second floor. The family searched for the office and quickly found it. Mariana knocked on the door, opened it and looked inside. The room was a small room with a desk in the right corner with a female receptionist sitting behind it. On her desk was a laptop computer and office supplies. To the left was a black leather two-seater couch and in front of the desk was a chair for visitors.
Mariana: "Good afternoon, may I come in?"
Staff member: "Silvers? On the subject of adoption? Come in."
The whole family entered the room. Since there was not enough seating, George took a seat in front of the desk, Mariana sat in a chair, and the children sat on the couch. The employee pulled a piece of paper from her desk drawer and held it out along with a pen to Mariana.
Staff member: "Both parents need to fill out an adoption application together and the boy needs to consent to the adoption."
George: "The child is given the right to vote? I haven't heard of such a thing. Are there any cases of rejection?"
Staff member: "In a voluntary adoption, consent is required from the adoptee in which they affirm on their own behalf that they are being treated well and are willing to be part of this family."
George and Mariana began to study the application and took turns filling it out. Then they made room for Theodore. He sat down on Mariana's chair and filled out his consent.
Staff member: "Good, now we will have an interview. First with the parents and then with the boy. When interviewing the boy, everyone else will have to leave this office."
The interview with the parents lasted about 20 minutes. Various questions were asked, related to how and under what circumstances the boy came into the family, how he is kept, who and where they work, what the family eats, how the house is kept clean, who the neighbors are, and so on and so forth. Finally, it was Theodore's turn. The Silvers left the office and left the adoptee alone with the municipal worker. He held himself calmly and confidently.
Staff member: "So, Theodore. Your new family. How do you like them in general?"
Ted: "Good, loving and caring. I like living with them very much."
Staff member: "No one is pressuring you? Did you write your consent voluntarily?"
Ted: "Voluntarily."
Staff member: "If there's something bothering you or something you want to talk about that you couldn't voice in front of Silver, now is the time to share it with me."
Ted: "I don't have anything to tell. I have no secrets from my new family. Especially since I'll soon be a part of it too."
Staff member: "You stopped going to school three months ago. That was due to certain circumstances, of course… but still. Basic education, as you know, is compulsory for everyone, because if you don't complete it, you won't get a profession, you won't get a job anywhere and you can't do anything. Have you thought about going back to school again?"
Theodore: "I know, I want to and I have thought about it. As Mariana said, together we've already looked at a boxing school in this town. As soon as I'm officially adopted, I'll enroll there right away."
Staff member: "You can start going to that school now. Why simply waste precious time? Tell me, how is your relationship with your future big brother?"
Ted: "Good, we don't fight, we live as friends."
Staff member: "Now for the unpleasant part. Your real parents have passed away, sadly. But their possessions remain in the form of a modest apartment. Also, your daddy had a car, but the present whereabouts of the car are unknown. I am also aware that you have grandparents on both your mom's and dad's side. They have priority custody because they are blood relatives to you. Why don't you want to live with them?"
Ted: "My grandparents and I have been in a fight for years. They have shown me no attention and have never visited me since I was three years old. They didn't help me and my father in any way and left us to our own devices after my mom died. The Silver's took me in as their own child. I never got the kind of care I got from them, not even from my own parents. I think my grandfathers forgot all about me. Do you want me to go back to people who don't care about me at all?"
Staff member: "I'm just stating the facts. We'll figure it out. Now we will sign papers with you confirming the fact that you have accepted the inheritance, and from the moment you sign them, you will become the sole full owner of the apartment and the car."
The municipal clerk pulled two copies of the document out of a desk drawer and handed them to Theodore.
Staff member: "Read it carefully and put your initials and signature on the last pages."
Theodore quickly opened the last pages and signed without reading anything.
Staff member: "Are you sure you won't read it? Or do you have an instant-read scanner built into your head?"
Ted: "I trust you. You won't cheat… I'm much more concerned with finalizing the adoption as soon as possible."
Staff member: "Don't worry about that. If your grandparents don't want custody of you, and if your new family meets all the criteria, the adoption won't take long. That's it, you can go."
Theodore walked out of the office. In the hallway, the Silvers were waiting impatiently for him. Mariana immediately rushed to him asking him how everything went and what questions the municipal worker was asking.
George: "All right, let's go. You can tell me on the way. I'm sure it wasn't anything difficult."
The family left the building and their car and returned home. All in all, everyone was filled with positive emotions and happy that the process of being officially welcomed into the family was now underway. Mariana went to her work, George began to deal with business matters, constantly calling someone, and Michael and Ted went up to their room to rest.
Time continued to pass. After 1.5 weeks, an inspector showed up on the doorstep performing a welfare check on the family, which the Silvers passed without difficulty. After 2.5 weeks, everyone was summoned to the same office where the initial interview had taken place to officially enter into the database that Theodore was a member of the Silver family. The deed was done. The addition to the family had taken place.

Aboveground practice
754. Michael stood on the runway of one of the neighbouring towns. Next to him was a small two-seat dark blue helicopter, designed for one passenger and a pilot. But since it was a training model, the passenger seat had been converted for an instructor pilot. It was equipped with a second steering wheel and an instrument panel exactly like the main pilot's. Michael had come here to take a proficiency exam in flying several models of aircraft and one helicopter, which he was just in front of.
There were several CCTV cameras in the cockpit, monitored by a panel of three people standing nearby in business suits. Next to Michael was to be flown and backed up by his school instructor, who taught practice in flying skills.
The parents knew that the overground transport exam was one of the most difficult and dangerous. So they decided to come and support their son. Ted, who had finished his training early, arrived with them. Officially, the diploma of graduation from a specialised school should have stated that Michael was able to drive all types of above-ground, surface and land transport. However, even for 12 years of study to master all kinds of transport was simply physically impossible, especially given the fact that almost every year there were new and new models. That's why everyone realised that everything written in the diploma was rather formal. In the end, the graduate chose only a certain direction in the implementation of transport and then specialised in it all his life, constantly improving his skills. That's why the exams were passed only on two or three training prototypes, confirming the fact that the student had mastered the basic skills of their management.
George: ‘That's it, son. There's one last step left and you're going to put another bold tick on the list of vehicles. Good luck! You can handle anything!’
Mariana: ‘My boy! We're with you, we're with you! Everything will be alright!’
Ted: ‘Do it the way you know how to do it! Show them! We believe in you!’
Michael waved in the distance to his parents and brother standing in the distance, who shouted words of encouragement to him. They waved their arms diligently, as if he was competing in some important competition on which his future career depended. The instructor came up to him and, patting the boy on the shoulder, said: ‘All right, Michael, let's go. It's time.’
The examiner opened the door of the aircraft and took the seat of the main pilot, fastening his seatbelt and wearing headphones with a microphone. The first thing he did was to start inspecting the instrument panel and check that the helicopter was ready for takeoff. No doubt he was a little nervous knowing he was being watched by both his own and strangers.
Instructor: ‘Ready? Come on, start the engine.’
Michael grasped the steering wheel with one hand, and with the other he started the power supply by pulling up a few switches. The machine roared, the motor started, and the blades began to rotate and gain speed. The airflow artificially created by the rotating blades began to lift the dust and spread it in different directions. Michael waited for the moment when the rotational force reached the optimum mark on the instruments, and smoothly began to pull the steering wheel, lifting the helicopter upwards. The helicopter obeyed him and began to move in the direction set by the pilot. The machine rose slowly and smoothly, without wobbling and wiggling from side to side. Having reached the mark of 150 metres above ground level, the helicopter hovered in the air.
Instructor: ‘OK, good. Now make a 90 degree turn on your axis’.
The helicopter began to turn smoothly, then, having reached its 90-degree turn angle, hovered again without a single movement in the air. Then, exactly on the command of his instructor, Michael made several more turns in different directions, turning the helicopter 90 degrees, 180 degrees, 360 degrees around its axis. The examiner then lifted the aircraft even higher above the ground, to a height of 300 metres.
The next test consisted of flying at a distance of 3 kilometres. First it was necessary to fly to a notional point, then turn the helicopter in the opposite direction and return to the range. It was a standard training direction without any obstacles on the way. Specially from the category of ‘easy tasks for beginners’. Michael also successfully coped with it. Having made a small circle, he returned to the starting point and waited for the next instructions of his instructor.
The next task was more difficult. It was necessary to land the helicopter on the site of a fifteen-storey residential building. In fact, this task was no different from landing a helicopter on the runway, except that the space there was much smaller. But when you know how to handle a vehicle well, you won't have much trouble with it. Michael studied very carefully and tried to absorb everything like a sponge, never missing anything.
The weather began to turn bad. The wind was blowing hard on a scale of 6 out of 10, and the sky was covered with clouds. A helicopter flew close to an apartment building and hovered in the air. Residents began to look out of their windows, watching what was happening. It was not a novelty for them to watch the helicopter circle over their building, land on it and take off. An agreement had been reached with the management company to use their roof for training purposes on certain days and hours. For this she received a considerable amount of money. Not all the tenants were happy with this, as they feared that something could go wrong and end in tragedy for everyone. In addition they were annoyed by the occasional noise coming from the helicopters. The aircraft began to sway slightly due to the strong gusts of wind. Michael was a little tense about this.
Instructor: ‘It's okay. Keep a firm grip on the steering wheel. That's it. Now level the helicopter so that the bottom is exactly parallel to the circle. And slowly start to descend.’
Michael listened attentively to his instructor. He was confident that he was not alone in the cockpit and that his teacher could back him up at any moment. The helicopter hovered from side to side as it neared the roof and began its descent. The cabin was tense: every now and then the instruments beeped, signalling a loss of altitude, the machine shook and wobbled from side to side. Michael's seat vibrated as if he were in a racing game simulator with a lot of special effects. The examiner slid to the edge of his seat and hunched over, trying to concentrate as much as possible. Finally, the task was completed and the helicopter sat down, landing precisely in its circle. Michael leaned back in his seat and breathed a sigh of relief. All that remained was to take off from here, fly to the range, land the machine, and the exam would be passed.
Instructor: ‘Take a little breather and return to base. You're doing great.’
A couple of minutes later, Michael began to slowly lift the helicopter into the air. The wind continued to rock the machine in different directions. Drops of the beginning rain began to appear on the glass, which was getting heavier by the second. The examiner switched on the windscreen wipers. As the helicopter rose to a height of several dozen metres, a strong gust of wind blew, which broke the perfect balance of the vehicle and the helicopter tilted slightly to the right side.

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