Black as night. Black as night Translation information

This is a novel about relationships between people, about the relationship between man and the world around him, about the struggle between Nature and hunter-poachers.

Against the backdrop of African landscapes incredibly vividly described by the author, the main characters undergo severe trials. IN mysterious world, into which the hunters find themselves, a giant stone “book of Nature” appears. Every page of it is real world. To the poachers who find themselves in it, Nature itself gives a chance to find light even in a soul as black as night.

A fantastic, fascinating plot and deep philosophical reflections of the novel's heroes will convince the reader of the need for a respectful attitude towards the nature around us.

The work was published in 2016 by the ITRK publishing house. On our website you can download the book “Black as Night” in fb2, rtf, epub, pdf, txt format or read online. Here, before reading, you can also turn to reviews from readers who are already familiar with the book and find out their opinion. In our partner's online store you can buy and read the book in paper version.

Black as night, like coal, like soot. Wed. Coal is like coal, soot is like soot, black and black. Wed. ......he had a daughter. Everything was captivated by the beauty of his Donika; Face like day, eyes like night. Zhukovsky. Donika. Wed. Tam excoctam reddam atque atram quam… …

Wed. Coal is charcoal, soot is soot, black is black. Wed. ...he had a daughter. Everything was captivated by the beauty of his Donika; Face like day, eyes like night. Zhukovsky. Donika. Wed. Tamn excoctam reddam atque atram quam carbo st. I’ll make it cooked like this (and finish it) and... ... Michelson's Large Explanatory and Phraseological Dictionary

Adj., number of synonyms: 12 slate (10) blue black (13) coal black (5) ... Synonym dictionary

Adj., number of synonyms: 9 blue black (13) night color (9) soot color (9) ... Synonym dictionary

Adj., number of synonyms: 11 slate (10) blue black (13) pitch (11) ... Synonym dictionary

See dirty, keep in a black body, pay with black ingratitude, repay with black ingratitude, professor of white and black magic, surprise the world with black ingratitude, pay with black ingratitude... Dictionary of Russian synonyms and similar... ... Synonym dictionary

Like pitch (like soot, like soot) black. The hair is like resin. Wed. Schwarz wie Pech. Wed. Coelum pice nigrius. Per. The sky is pitch black. Ovid. Her. 18, 7. Wed. Νέφος μελάντερον ἠύτε πίσσα. Per. The cloud is blacker than tar. Hom. Il. 4, 277. See Cases like... ... Michelson's Large Explanatory and Phraseological Dictionary (original spelling)

BLACK, black, suit, the darkest, soot-colored, opposite. white and generally colored. The cow is black (zhukola), and the horse is black. Black arapchenok, black black arapchenok (chernekhonek), blacker than black soot! Black is the night, night, dark, except black,... ... Dictionary Dahl

black- ▲ determined by large, absorption, light white black. black reflected color of a surface that completely absorbs anything falling on it electromagnetic radiation. like soot. like tar. like night. carbonic. like coal. blued... ... Ideographic Dictionary of the Russian Language

Die Nacht von Lisbon Cover of the Russian edition Genre: novel

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Black as night, warm as spring soil - this amazing stone has attracted human attention for a long time. “In black stone, the tones of mourning and death are combined with the sparkling brilliance of light and life,” wrote academician Fersman. No wonder jet was a symbol of night and sadness, a talisman for merchants and travelers, an amulet that protected against the evil eye and negative energy.

“God sleeps in minerals, awakens in plants, moves in animals, and thinks in man,” it is written in Sanskrit. Jet is neither a plant nor an animal, of course. But also a mineral, a stone, full meaning These words cannot be used to describe him. So what is he?

Jet belongs to the so-called bioliths - petrified waste products of living beings. Plants are born, live for a set time, leaving behind offspring, and die, falling to Mother Earth. She takes them into her arms, and the process of decomposition begins.

And where the ground is swampy, the process of peat formation begins. Plant remains, having passed this stage, turn into brown coal, which is then transformed into stone. It was at this stage that jet appeared - no longer a plant, but not a mineral either. He - organic compound, a type of fossil coal that holds many secrets about life on Earth in the distant past.

The name of this biolith, according to one version, comes from the name of the city and the river Gages in Lycia, located in ancient times in Asia Minor. According to another version, jet comes from the Greek “gagates” - black amber. This name was probably due to the fact that jet, like amber, becomes electrified when rubbed against silk or wool. In Transcaucasia, jet is called gisheri from the Armenian “gisher” - night. And the Persian alchemists called it shaba, which means “black as night.”

Jet deposits are found throughout the world. They are especially valued in the deposits of the Caucasus, India and China. In different areas, this biolite was formed under certain conditions - jets mined in different areas differ in their composition. For example, in the Irkutsk deposit they were formed from algae and higher plants. In Ukraine, “black amber” is mined in Crimea, in the Bakhchisarai region.

Jet is warm and moist to the touch, its color is deep black or dark brown, it has a bright resinous sheen. “O branch of wet jet! Because of you, the pearls found themselves in sadness,” wrote the poet of the Ancient East as-Sanaubari.

Jet is homogeneous and soft, at a temperature of 100-120 degrees it softens and bends, which allows you to make products from it various shapes. When it cools, it turns to stone again. More primitive processed “black amber” with silicon tools. Such pieces were found at Neolithic sites.

At different periods of time, jet was used to make jewelry, household items, amulets, talismans and religious attributes. IN Ancient Egypt Mirrors were made from it, as it is highly polished.

In the Middle Ages, mainly in Italy, figures of animals made of “black amber” were worn to protect against evil influences. It was also believed that it strengthened eyesight and protected against the evil eye, so children wore a jet necklace. Perhaps the warmth of the biolite had a calming effect on a person, and he was more comfortable, he felt more protected.

In the seventeenth century, the "fig" fishery was widespread in Spain. "Fig" is an amulet that was given special magical properties since the times of ancient Egyptian civilizations. This amulet is an image of a hand in which thumb sandwiched between the middle and index. Such a sign - a symbol of a closed hand - was a symbol of protection. Belief in his power has survived to this day.

The monks of the Gelati Monastery, in Georgia, made crosses, icons, rosaries and bracelets from jet. And in the Irkutsk Cathedral the entire iconostasis was made of this stone. England supplied almost the entire Catholic world with jet rosaries.

Currently, in lithotherapy, “black amber” is used in the form of massage balls and plates to remove negative energy.

Products made from jet are soft and must be protected from scratches. They are afraid high temperatures- crack, and begin to smolder in an open fire.

Sometimes bog oak, an almost black, semi-petrified wood that was extracted from the peat bogs of Ireland, was passed off as jet.

Externally, jet can be confused with graphite. But graphite is duller, stains your hands when polished and does not light up even over high heat. Ebonite, black glass and onyx, and epoxy resin are most often used as emission. Black glass and black onyx cannot be confused - they are colder and heavier. When touched with a hot needle, ebonite smells like rubber, not like burning coal. When tested in the same way, epoxy resin smells like carbolic acid.

Since jet is a waste product flora, then he may be biologically rich active substances What scientists still have to figure out is.

Photo from the Internet

Current page: 1 (book has 15 pages in total)

J. S. Andrijeski
Black as night

Transfer information:

Translation: Rosland (https://vk.com/vmrosland)

Russification of the cover: Rosland

Prologue
Buddha

Running footsteps echoed down the stone corridor, loud in the stillness of the night.

Steps of two.

Not the barefoot running of monks in saffron-colored robes - these were booted feet, the feet of soldiers. Or at least people who shouldn't be here, not at night, not in one of the holiest places of the Old City, where local residents They came to every holiday to light incense and mutter prayers. The desire to cleanse oneself of the dirt and corruption that surrounded all people in Everyday life seems to have remained universal.

As well as the desire to pretend that no matter how bad it was, it was even worse somewhere else. It was always worse somewhere else—anywhere.

But in reality it wasn't. It couldn't have been worse.

Perhaps it was better hidden. It's easier to ignore every day. But the same fundamental rot permeated everything. No one was free from it.

He glanced up at the massive golden statue sitting on a raised platform. Forty-six meters long, she shone in the moonlight that filtered through the open wooden shutters of the chapel dedicated to her, the blue light reflecting off her gilded skin. The base of pearls and black stones at the feet of his massive feet shimmered like stars at the end of his reclining pose. Absorbed in the shadows, the details of his gilded hair, mouth and facial contours hung high in silence above where he stood, beyond the reach of the moonlight, almost under the roof of the stepped-roofed building.

The image was iconic...inspiring admiration even now, in the darkness.

However, many, especially Westerners who visit this place, have forgotten that this is a master captured at the time of death 1
We are talking about the Reclining Buddha Statue in the temple of the same name in Bangkok.

This is an outstanding golden temple of death.

The same death that frightened all the animals living here - regardless of whether they wanted to believe in an enlightened death or not. The statue occupied everything except for a tiny passage around itself leading into viharn, or the chapel that housed it - a gesture of respect for this fear.

The sounds of footsteps grew fainter in the deadness of the night as his pursuers left the sacred space around the main temple. He could still hear them, along with the occasional scream, excited, hurried chatter in another language.

A shot was fired, but it was not aimed at him.

He smelled smoke.

The flame burned, shining in the distance near the horizon.

They will all burn no matter where he goes. But they will never catch him.

He was a ghost.

He has already disappeared.

Chapter 1
Phone call

Of course, I was supposed to be at lunch with Angel and Nick when he called.

I just obliged was right there.

Because seriously, Homicide Detective Naoko "Nick" Tanaka didn't have enough reasons to rip my brains out over my new "employer."

I stared at the name flashing on the screen of my phone as it vibrated on the table, tempted to ignore it. Just stick your phone in your bag and start humming a funny tune.

Either way, I felt justified in ignoring him. Black hadn't bothered to make himself known in the last thirty-three days. Well, at least not for me.

I knew because I counted. Thirty-three days.

I didn't even have a clue where he was. I strongly suspected that it was not in San Francisco.

When I didn't answer the phone after two more long vibrations, Angel laughed, playfully slapping my arm from her seat next to me on the red vinyl couch.

“Aren’t you going to answer, Doc?” she teased.

Unlike Nick, Angel seemed to find the whole situation with me and Black hilariously funny.

The three of us squeezed into a table at one of our favorite lunch spots, an indoor sushi bar. mall, which was located in the center of Japantown 2
Japantown is a Japanese quarter in San Francisco.

Angel and Nick were working full-time in the Northern District again, so this was part of the excuse to go there since the police station was so close to Japantown. My office was located next to them, so for me it was also a short bus ride or even a walk if I had free time.

I've known them both for a few years, especially Nick, but they've known each other longer. I met Nick at the service when I was eighteen and he was just over thirty, but Angel grew up with Nick, and also in a bad neighborhood. The way they teased each other every now and then made me wonder if their relationship was romantic, but even so, they both kept their mouths shut. I considered them my closest friends. Until recently, I did a lot of work with them, mainly as a profiler and forensic psychologist.

But now I have a new employer.

Looking at my phone, Nick frowned, then finished sticking the little octopus into his mouth with chopsticks and began chewing diligently. After swallowing, he grumbled, pointing the same chopsticks at my phone.

- This is him, right? The guy is crazy.

With a resigned sigh, I picked up the phone, and Angel giggled.

I didn't bother to say hello.

- What? – I barked into the phone. - What's happened?

Silence.

Next to me, Angel laughed even harder.

I still haven't heard anything from the phone.

I also didn't feel it, which was usually easy for me. I haven't advertised it much, but I am what is commonly called a "psychic." Nothing like my employer, of course, not even close, but when I talked to him, a connection usually sparked between us.

However, not this time. His laser-sharp mind must have been focused somewhere else.

Although, again, no one can be such a blank wall as Quentin Black when he wants to be.

This begs the question, why the hell was he calling me?

In the back of my mind I cursed because of all the possible times he needed to call Now. Part of me was paranoid enough to think he did it on purpose. I haven't seen my friends for several weeks, and it wasn't a coincidence, or that they were hanging out in the center more than usual. I knew that Nick had been at the North Precinct particularly frequently over the past two weeks because I had seen his motorcycle in the parking lot we both used. Since the nearest real coffee shop was in my building, right below my offices, I usually accidentally bumped into him or Angel every day, even when we weren't planning on seeing each other.

But not in the last few weeks. This suggested that at the very least Nick—who was even more dependent on coffee than Angel—must have been avoiding me on purpose.

Of course I knew why.

And yes, part of it is because of my new job.

Nick still hasn't come to terms with the fact that I accepted an offer from Black's Security and Investigations, a top-notch private investigation firm on California Street in downtown San Francisco. He claimed that the reason was that I was corrupt. He accused me of chasing money instead of helping real crime fighters - that is, him.

However, I knew this was mostly a cop-out.

Nick's hatred for mine new job least of all was connected with money, and most of all with the owner of the mentioned company, the same Quentin R. Black, whom Nick confidently considered a dangerous psychopath.

Well, at least extremely annoying.

However, in truth, I suspected that my work was just one of the reasons why Nick was avoiding me. Hatred for Black may have been one of Nick's most easily expressed emotions, but it wasn't his deepest. Several times I caught glimpses of how he felt guilty about everything that happened when I first met Black. Not just for introducing me to Black, forcing me to write a profile, and not even for arresting me while he still suspected Black of the wedding murders. I knew that Nick felt most guilty about Ian... Ian Stone, my ex-fiance, whom I met through Nick.

The same Ian Stone who tried to kill me in my own apartment.

I knew Nick hadn't put all this behind him yet.

For that matter, neither do I. Didn't leave it in the past, that is.

But – unlike Nick himself, as I suspected – I didn’t blame Nick for anything.

In any case, it wasn't Nick who organized today's lunch. This is Angel's doing. I strongly suspect that she finally got tired of our silence and perhaps decided that we were both acting like idiots. I couldn't agree with her more.

In any case, this lunch was something of a peace offering. Break the ice between us, at least.

And the fact that Black called now, after not bothering to get in touch for a whole month... well, that's so Black of him.

“I’m hanging up,” I warned him over the phone when the silence dragged on.

- Miriam? - he asked.

- Yes? – I responded through clenched teeth. - You called me.

He seemed to barely hear me.

Then I tangibly felt his attention return.

Whatever distracted him went away the background, while I came to his fore. Focusing all his attention on me, he spoke quickly, his strange, indefinable accent only making his words even clearer.

“I sent the car,” Black said. It sent an image of the limousine straight into my mind, causing me to flinch and become disoriented for a microsecond. I was still not used to his psychic abilities and how intensely and yet functionally he used them. – Estimated time of arrival is two minutes. Don't worry about luggage. Kiko packed her hand luggage in your apartment when she picked up her passport. If she missed something, you can buy it here at my expense...

I was torn between anger and a strong desire to laugh.

He exhaled as if with impatience.

- I need you to come here. They are behaving...problematically. In any case, you will be useful to me. Come straight here as soon as you arrive. I would really like you to come straight from the airport.

- Wait... what? – I asked again more sharply. - Airport? To come to you? Where?

“Phra Ratchawong Police Station,” Black answered immediately.

He sent me another picture, this time of a building covered in unfamiliar inscriptions and standing on the corner of a very un-American-looking intersection. The front entrance was decorated with four white Ionic columns. Once again, the sharpness of the image and the way it blurred my physical vision made me flinch and blink.

-... The driver will be waiting for you here. They know where it is, so don't bother trying to write it down. Most drivers here don't read English. A. And you will need to pick up a lawyer. Hotel Hanu. Sathon district. Near Naradhivas.

- Black! – I barked. -What the hell are you talking about?

- Kiko will be there soon. She will be able to explain everything that I missed.

I literally saw him checking his army watch.

“Tell her to go faster,” he muttered. “I may have waited until the last minute with the reservation, but I really can’t waste any more time sitting locked up here.”

- Locked up? – I asked cautiously. - Black, I’m not even in the office...

“I know,” he interrupted dismissively. – “Omui Sushi Island.” My people tracked your phone. It will be better if you wait at the entrance,” he added. “I really need you to catch this flight, if at all possible.”

- Black, I can’t just do this. leave. I have clients this afternoon...

“It’s already settled,” he replied. “I asked Lisbeth to cancel and reschedule all of your meetings this week, including the profiling I assigned you.” This matter receives the highest priority.

- What's the matter? – I asked. – Getting you out of prison?

Nick, across from me, snorted.

I literally felt complete absence surprise on his part.

Black was silent, and I exhaled, running my fingers through my hair.

-Where am I going? – I asked in a more doomed tone. - At least you can tell me this?

This time I felt genuine surprise through our connection.

“Black...” I began irritably.

He had already hung up.

“He’s out of his fucking mind,” I grumbled, climbing into the back seat and wincing just a little when I leaned too hard on my bad leg.

Kiko laughed, slamming the limousine door behind me.

I didn’t know her well yet, but I already liked her.

She also scared me a little.

Some people might find this funny because I'm 175cm tall and have a background in martial arts, whereas Kiko is only 160cm and weighs 7-9kg less than me. But Kiko was all muscle, and although I knew little about her background, I clearly detected the military bearing, as with for the most part Black's employees.

Even Black's office assistants looked intimidating. Lisbeth, his fifty-something-year-old assistant, looked like she could fight me in the ring and win.

Kiko definitely wasn't office employee, although sometimes she worked as a driver for Black, as she does now. She was in charge internal security in Black Policing and Investigations. At times she also acted as Black's personal bodyguard - a frightening fact in itself.

I rubbed my leg (the shrapnel wound was mostly healed), trying not to think about the look on Nick's face after I told him and Angel where I was going. I made it a rule to never use psychic powers on my friends (at least not on purpose), but it was very difficult when I saw the frown on Nick's face.

However, it did help me make one decision.

Nick and I need to have a real heart-to-heart talk.

Perhaps in private, even without Angel as referee.

The limo's engine started with a quiet rumble, and I turned towards the restaurant. I barely had time to see him because Kiko was already pulling away from the side of the road.

Pursing my lips, I tried to decide if I should call Nick right now.

Invite me to meet you when I return. Offer to get drunk.

He completely lost the ability to watch his tongue when he got drunk - at least with me. Of course, this only applied to personal topics; Nick was an impenetrable safe when it came to confidential work-related information. I knew this characteristic of him from our time together in the army, even before he recruited me into intelligence.

I looked up as Kiko rolled down the window between the driver's seat and the inside of the limousine. Seeing that the dark partition was lowering, I immediately moved to the opposite seat to sit closer to it. I placed my hands on the back of the leather seat, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

– Do you know anything about what happened there? – I asked.

She shook her head, smiling.

I exhaled, mostly out of irritation.

- Predictable.

– He said that I know?

I snorted, nodding at her eyes in the mirror.

– Is he a pathological liar? Or just crazy?

Only after I said this did it dawn on me that speaking like that about our common boss was not the most diplomatic thing to do. Kiko worked for Black longer than I did. I didn't know exactly how long, but from what Black said, at least several years. Other than that, I knew nothing about their history together.

However, Kiko only giggled, shaking her head.

- Black? Liar? No. He probably thinks he told me. Sometimes I think he doesn't know the difference between 'thought about doing something' and 'actually did it.'" She glanced at me in the mirror again, adding, "You might have to get used to it, Doc." Especially now that you are his new favorite toy.

I bristled slightly at these words, although I knew it was stupid.

I knew what she meant. She definitely didn't mean it the way my inner paranoia wanted to interpret it - as some kind of hint that something more intimate was going on between me and Black. Even so, I knew it would be foolish to react to this with anything other than indifference. Black hasn't approached me in this regard since our interrupted session after we were both nearly killed. I had virtually no doubt that there was nothing left between us anymore, at least if one could judge by his actions.

I figured he must be moving on. Or he has rules against relationships with employees.

Whatever the reason, he more or less pretended it didn't happen.

– Do you have any idea what he’s even doing there? – I asked Kiko. - In Bangkok?

- So that means he's there? – she drawled.

I sighed, running my hand over my face.

I turned around and leaned back in my seat. After a few seconds of hesitation, I pulled out my phone, opening the web browser. I tried to see how long I could spend in the air on a direct flight from San Francisco to Bangkok, but it turns out there are no direct flights between the two cities. Flight combinations on the travel website ranged from seventeen to thirty hours, depending on the connections.

Closing the browser, I exhaled again - this time from fatigue.

Running my fingers through my long dark hair, I laid my head on the back of the seat. I stared at the roof of the limousine, again wondering what had entered into me when I agreed to work for Black.

I also wondered why I couldn't just head to the beach as soon as I got there and leave him to figure out whatever madness he was in.

However, I knew the answer.

To both questions, actually.

Chapter 2
Following orders

I turned around in confusion; my jacket and coat had already been taken off and hung on my bent arms.

It was hot. I should have tried to fit them into one of the bags.

Managing them, my purse, a long silver suitcase, a photo of which Kiko gave me and told me to pick it up in Bangkok at the baggage claim, a phone and another, now white suitcase for hand luggage– with a bag on wheels – I was more than overloaded.

Probably, this would have been the case even without jet lag and thirty-degree heat with eighty percent humidity at six in the morning. Crowds of the same people who had not yet acclimatized trudged along with me through customs and security towards the long line of taxis that were waiting outside the terminal, and this did not help me either. We bumped into each other, sweated and looked around us with equally dazed and unfocused eyes.

However, since it was like this early morning, there was silence in the air. People were friendly, even if they looked tired. The crowd was not as thick as I suspected it would be in the middle of the day or early evening.

The two suitcases were perhaps the most difficult to manage.

Based on what Black said, I assumed the white rolling bag must be filled with clothes from my apartment, also thanks to Kiko. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the contents of the larger, hard silver suitcase, since it appeared to be equipped with an expensive-looking combination lock.

Whatever it contained, I strongly suspected it was not intended for me.

Walking through the revolving door from baggage claim to the curb, I found myself wishing for an extra pair of hands.

And yet, when that pair of hands appeared, taking my jacket and blazer, large silver suitcase and rolling bag with a polite smile and bow, I just stood there, bewildered. In the end, I felt strangely naked, despite the almost instantaneous feeling that it had all finally gone away.

He left me my phone and purse, so that's good news. Given this, I realized that this was most likely not a thief. I was still wondering if he had confused me with someone else.

Then the woman called my name.

I found her standing next to a white SUV parked on the side of the road.

She was Thai, about 157 cm tall and a little over thirty years old, I guessed. She was well dressed in a black pencil skirt, eight-centimeter heels and a sky blue frilly blouse. She was also almost shockingly beautiful. She was wearing a jacket, but I didn't notice a drop of sweat. Her makeup looked flawless. Her straight black hair was perfectly styled with a pearl comb.

Gently folding her hands in front of her, she smiled at me.

- Miss Fox? – she repeated politely.

The man in the black suit, who had taken my jacket, blazer and suitcases a few seconds earlier, was already disappearing with them into the trunk of the SUV as I came closer.

“Hello,” I said, smiling. -Are you meeting me?

“You’re Mr. Black’s guest, right?”

Approaching her, I extended my hand, which she gently shook.

“Yes,” I answered, still trying my best to hide my confusion. – I’m his uh... employee. You can call me Miriam. Or Miri.

Smiling even wider, she politely pointed to the car with one hand.

“Please,” she said.

The man who had taken my luggage was now holding the back door open.

After hesitating for a split second, I nodded awkwardly, then followed in the direction of her pointing hands.

Climbing into the back seat, I thanked the Thai driver before he closed the door. I then watched as he walked around the front of the car while the woman quickly walked behind it. The man opened the front door and sat in the driver's seat, which was on the right, like in England. A well-dressed woman opened the door opposite me. Sitting down on exactly the same seat, only in front of me, she smiled again.

None of them spoke.

Seconds later the car merged into traffic.

I looked out the window, at first seeing only glimpses of sky and vegetation through fragments of the cement parking building near the airport. We then drove out into the early morning sun outside the complex and this light blue sky opened up before us. As soon as we entered the highway and picked up speed, I began to see buildings on both sides of the far stretch of asphalt. They weren't as tall as I expected - at least not at first. Instead, I saw detailed billboards lining the highway for miles, more vegetation than I expected, winding waterways that resembled canals, and what looked like rows and rows of country houses with tile roofs.

“We must be quite far from the city itself,” I thought.

We drove for a few more minutes in silence, when I remembered something and turned, looking at the woman. She met my gaze, still smiling politely.

“Um...” it dawned on me that she hadn’t told me her name. – What should I call you?

“You can call me Fa.”

- Fa? - I smiled. - Okay... Fa. Did Mr. Black tell you about the need to pick up someone else? – I hesitated, trying to read the reaction in her eyes and failing. – He told me about the Hanu Hotel... in Satkhon. His lawyer?

She smiled, nodding.

-Can we go there?

She nodded again.

– Chai, kha. Yes.

I nodded, trying to hide my confusion. I found myself wondering how much English she knew. This made me wonder if she actually understood what I said or was just being polite.

Also, what exactly is she doing in the car with me?

In the end, I briefly read it - with my mind, I mean.

I tried not to intrude too much, but what I found calmed me. Black's people called her the day before asking her to pick me up. She had worked with Black in Bangkok before and didn't find his strange demands too surprising. She understood my words about the hotel. She also knew that after this we had to go to the police station.

Having learned this, I relaxed a little.

And yet, in those same few seconds, it dawned on me that it was rather reckless of me to bravely get into a car with complete strangers. Seriously, if I weren't so crazy, I should have read them. before, rather than hand over your bags and allow yourself to be kidnapped from the airport. If there is good use my psychic abilities is confirming the identities of the escorts before climbing into a strange car in a country whose language you don’t know.

I need to be more careful, at least until I get some sleep.

My flight ended up lasting almost twenty-five hours, including transfers—and one stop in Taipei before arriving here. I spent most of the longer of the two flights watching movies because I've never been able to sleep on planes.

Now I found myself thinking about Black, looking out of the car window and seeing only a blur of greenery, broken by buildings and rooftops.

I barely knew him. I've barely seen him since the wedding murders ended. It must have been a full week before my body had recovered enough for me to start thinking about returning to work. I then spent a week or so in the kingdom paperwork and all sorts of crap with access to classified information for his company. This included: filling out all sorts of stacks of forms, writing tests for permission to firearms; become familiar with the databases and encryption programs his team uses to store data; get your passwords, desk, phone and chair, along with a small office in the main building on California Street.

Black also asked that I undergo a medical examination by his team of specialists. When I gave my verbal consent, he also made me sign another document assuring me that the test results would remain confidential and would be destroyed if I stopped working for him.

At this time I hardly saw Black himself.

He was around somewhere, but it seems like we didn't have a single real conversation that wasn't work-related in those few weeks.

We definitely didn't talk about anything else.

Hell, I don't think we were even alone.

He kept his promise and did not bother me in the apartment he had prepared for me in his building. Moreover, to be completely honest, he kept that promise a little better than I would have liked... and definitely better than I expected. Since I lived under the same security measures as his office and his own residence, Black apparently thought that my safety and being in his environment was enough.

What was even more annoying was that I never got a chance to ask him the million or so questions I wanted to know about him—about who and what he was, or at least claimed to be. He used to tell me that we would discuss this “later” when we had time to go into all the details.

But this “later” never came.

Black disappeared shortly after I tried to pin him against the wall and talk, and I didn't talk to him until he called yesterday.

When Black did not return after about fifteen days, I moved out of the building on California Street and returned to my apartment on Clement Street in the Inner Richmond neighborhood.

I also decided to keep my office on Fillmore because I didn't want to turn away all my clients—at least not all at once—and I had a year's rent paid. For the past few weeks I've been working primarily there rather than in the California Street building. One of Black's technicians even came and set up my access to the databases and encryption programs, so I assumed Black knew and didn't mind the move.

However, his disappearance caused slight pain.

Not because he left for work (he already warned that he did this quite often), but because he didn't bother to tell me before leaving. Also, to be completely honest, it bothered me that I hadn’t heard from him at all since then.

When I agreed to work for him, I didn’t know what exactly to expect, but part of me expected him to take me deeper into his plans.

More precisely, I thought that he finally had something for me will tell.

When we first met, Black dropped a lot of hints about who he really was, who he thought I was, where he thought we both came from, and what it all meant. He fed me bits and pieces of some crazy conspiracy that he seemed to be operating within. Supposedly he is from another dimension, another race that looked more or less like people... psychic assassins, alien religions that include racial purity, crime lords...

Okay, so now, thinking about all this, I couldn't help but wonder why I wanted to talk to Black about this. Seriously, why did I even agree to work for him?

But I really wanted to know.

I would be lying to myself if I said otherwise.

Even if I end up admitting it's all crazy, I still wanted to hear it.

Black strangely attracted me from the very first moment of our meeting, and I also wanted to understand this in more detail. Moreover, there was definitely something different about him. Something beyond his frighteningly strong psychic abilities, strange golden eyes, unusual accent and demeanor. He could pretend, act like other people - I saw him do it quite convincingly - but in reality he was not like the others. This difference, whatever it meant, was obvious to me when he did not hide it.

I realized that I was nervous.

Not because of Bangkok, although being here was also exciting.

I was nervous because I would see Black again.

By the time I came to this thought, we were already pulling onto the side of the road in front of a skyscraper on a crowded street in the center of Bangkok. I missed a good part of our drive to the center, lost in my own head and catching only fragments of how we left the highway near a snake-like river and drove along a wide street with at least eight lanes of cars, surrounded on both sides by high and low buildings.

Now a large stone fountain loomed in front of me, half blocking the view of the street from the driveway where the SUV was parked. I realized that the decoration in the middle of the fountain was actually the name of the hotel, facing the street. The white SUV was parked behind the fountain in the hotel's circular driveway, so the copper-colored letters were now read backwards, but I could still read them easily.

03.04.2014 15:25

Cigar Clan 3 (27) 2006

Chocolate can be bitten, chewed, drunk and licked. Chocolate protects against stress and makes the brain work with renewed vigor. Chocolate is finally replacing sex and hashish: this is the conclusion of scientists who discovered substances in the delicacy that promote the production of “happiness hormones.”

As it was recently discovered, the insidious chocolate contains phenylethylamine, a substance that is formed in the body during sex. Some fifty extra grams - and romantic evening may end on a pleasant note. Examples are well known: for example, the wives of Spanish conquistadors (medieval “long-distance sailors”) drank chocolate so that in the absence of their husbands they would not miss male attention.

The great Aztec leader Montezuma, after a couple of cups, spent the whole night with his many wives. And Madame Du Barry treated all her lovers to chocolate when they met, so that they would at least correspond to her frantic temperament. The Marquis de Sade even ordered “black as the devil’s ass” for his thirtieth birthday. chocolate cake, hoping to turn the holiday into a high-quality orgy, a part of which he was a master. None of them, of course, knew about the presence of phenylethylamine, but there were legends about chocolate.

Gift of the gods

It is no secret that the first cocoa beans came to Europe in the 16th century on board the ship of Hernan Cortes. The famous conqueror took from South America There are many delicious curiosities: tomatoes, potatoes, corn, tobacco and chocolate. But if tomatoes, potatoes and other “related products” can be considered simply gastronomic trophies, then the Aztec emperor Montezuma presented cocoa beans to Cortes as a sacred gift. The Aztecs firmly believed in the divine origin of the cocoa tree. By ancient legend, the god Quetzalcoatl planted the first garden of these trees so that people could prepare a drink that gave wisdom and strength. It was a drink - the Indians did not eat chocolate, but drank it, heavily flavoring the bitter, foaming brew with spices.

Actually, beans were considered hard currency by the Aztecs: you could buy a slave for a hundred, a freshly caught crab cost the same, and a corrupt woman offered her services for just six cocoa grains. There is a version that the first European to drink chocolate, almost three decades before Cortes, was Christopher Columbus. And he also seemed to have received a bag of beans as a gift. But, having returned to his homeland, the traveler forgot some important part of the recipe and did not prepare anything worthwhile.

In this regard, Cortez turned out to be much more diligent than his fellow countryman. The Spaniards liked the chocolate he cooked according to an Indian recipe so much that for almost a century they did not reveal the secret of its preparation to anyone. Further evidence diverges. The Italians claim that the recipe was stolen in 1606 by the Florentine merchant Antonio Carletti during a trip to Spain. The French argue that it was they who introduced Europe to chocolate - thanks to the dynastic marriage concluded in 1615 between Louis XIII and the Infanta of the Spanish court, Anna of Austria, daughter of King Philip. This is where the most interesting things began - they began to notice the stimulating properties of chocolate and even attributed to it the birth of black babies among the royal ladies-in-waiting.

Sweet and smooth

For two hundred years, drink lovers have been experimenting with additives. Orange flowers were mixed into chocolate to calm the nerves, almond milk to improve digestion, orchids to tone, and so on. While chocolate remained bitter, it was looked upon more as a medicine than as a delicacy. It was often sold in pharmacies. One of the French pharmacists, falling into an enthusiasm surprising for a man of his profession, wrote: “This is a divine heavenly drink, this is a true panacea - a universal cure for all diseases.” The nineteenth century can rightly be called the century of chocolate. All the most interesting and important things happened to him in this century. To begin with, a hydraulic press was invented, with the help of which it became possible to extract cocoa butter from cocoa beans, reducing the bitterness of chocolate. In 1847, Englishman Joseph Fry cast the first chocolate bar from cocoa butter mixed with sugar. In 1876, the Swiss Daniel Peter added to cocoa mass powdered milk and got milk chocolate - today it is the most popular in the world. Milk chocolate was instantly dubbed Swiss, and now the homeland of Daniel Peter is no less proud of it than of cheeses, watches and jars. But few people know the name of the creator - instead of him, pharmacist Henri Nestlé entered history, prescribing Peter’s invention to weak babies.

Chocolate Kings

However, Henri Nestlé was not the only one who managed to build his empire on the popularity of chocolate. Amédé Kohler became famous for inventing a recipe for chocolate with nuts in 1828. In 1867, Swiss Jean Tobler opened a confectionery shop in Bern, where he served a drink made from instant chocolate, and in 1899, together with his son Theodor, he founded a factory that began producing Toblerone chocolate mixed with honey-almond nougat. At the factory, built in the same Bern in 1879 by Rudolf Lindt, they began producing the signature chocolate fondat, which melted in the mouth. And at the same time, for the first time they began to do chocolate candies with filling.

American Milton Hershey built in 1893 the whole city Hershey. The bulk of its inhabitants were engaged in the production of chocolate bars using low-fat milk. In 1905, the Catbury brothers began producing Dairy Milk chocolate with a delicate and rich creamy taste that was able to compete with the Swiss in the milk chocolate market. Finally, in 1920, Englishman John Mars presented to the public a chocolate bar named after him.

Cigar Clan 3"2006. Anna Elt