Рыбаченко Олег Павлович
The New Adventures Of Captain Daredevil

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  • Аннотация:
    Oleg Rybachenko, an immortal boy, is on his next mission. He finds himself in the Boer War and joins a troop of youngsters under the command of Jean Grandier. The troop consists of teenagers no older than sixteen, but they prove a great nuisance to the British. Oleg, possessing an immortal body, is incredibly strong and fast, becoming a formidable warrior. The children's battalion grows into a regiment, division, and corps, changing the course of history.
  THE NEW ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN DAREDEVIL
  ANNOTATION.
  Oleg Rybachenko, an immortal boy, is on his next mission. He finds himself in the Boer War and joins a troop of youngsters under the command of Jean Grandier. The troop consists of teenagers no older than sixteen, but they prove a great nuisance to the British. Oleg, possessing an immortal body, is incredibly strong and fast, becoming a formidable warrior. The children's battalion grows into a regiment, division, and corps, changing the course of history.
  CHAPTER No 1.
  The boy genius, and at the same time immortal, continued his missions. Here's another story-the war between the Boers and the British. Oleg received orders to join a battalion of youngsters commanded by a reckless captain. And so he set out to meet his commander. In South Africa, it's warm and comfortable to move around barefoot and in shorts.
  Oleg walked along and sang:
  Anyone who is a man is born a warrior,
  So it happened that the gorilla took the stone...
  When the enemies are legion without number,
  And in the heart a flame blazes hotly!
  
  The boy sees a machine gun in his dreams,
  He prefers a tank to a limousine...
  Who wants to turn a penny into heels,
  From birth he understands that force rules!
  And the boy slammed his bare foot into the cobblestone with all his might. And it shattered. His mood immediately lifted. How wonderful it was here-this was South Africa. And, for example, the parrots were chirping, and insects were flying, and there were plenty of pleasant smells.
  The boy warrior remembered the fairy tale of Little Red Riding Hood. And his dream had come true: he was a barefoot child in shorts, jumping, bouncing, and singing.
  If you walk along the path for a long time,
  If you walk along the path for a long time...
  Stomp, jump and run!
  But probably, probably!
  It is possible, it is possible, it is possible!
  Of course, everything is possible!
  Getting to Africa is a joke!
  The mountains in Africa are this high!
  In Africa, rivers are this wide!
  Ah crocodiles, hippos,
  Ah monkeys, sperm whales,
  Oh, and a green parrot,
  Oh, and a green parrot!
  The immortal boy quickened his pace and broke into a run, his small, round heels flashing. And then a young warrior, apparently ten or eleven, finally reached the camp. It was half empty; some of the young warriors were on a mission. This was a special battalion of youngsters, with not a single fighter over sixteen. And many weren't even fourteen yet. The Boers were vastly outnumbered by the British. The white population in both republics, including women, children, and the elderly, roughly equaled the entire British army deployed against the Boers. That is, both women and children were fighting. And some of the boys here were so small they weren't even ten years old, and they didn't even have Mausers, but much lighter and smaller rifles.
  Oleg, being immortal and physically strong, winks at the boys. Many of them, especially the younger ones, are barefoot, and it's really nice in Africa that even in winter it's not cold. On the contrary, winter is the best thing-it's not so swelteringly hot.
  Oleg isn't the smallest here, but he still looks younger than most of the squad. Two boys about fourteen years old meet him at the entrance and ask him sternly:
  - Who are you?
  Oleg answered with a smile:
  - Volunteer! I want to fight for the freedom and independence of the Orange Republic!
  They looked at the boy. Oleg was fair-haired, wearing shorts and a cheap T-shirt. His arms were defined and muscular. A large hole in the thin T-shirt revealed the slabs of his abs. Oleg felt ashamed of the torn T-shirt and tore it off. And his muscles were indeed defined and deeply defined. The boys whistled and remarked:
  - Wow! What a fine fellow! What kind of soil are you from?
  Captain Headstrong's squad consisted of boys, mostly local, but also many foreigners.
  Oleg told a half-truth:
  - From Russia!
  Relations between the Russians and the British were complex, especially before the Entente, and the memory of the Crimean War and Britain's failure to capture Istanbul in the war with Turkey was still relatively fresh. Plus, there were clashes in Central Asia. When further Russian expansion reached Kushka, it was halted by the threat of a major war with Leo's vast empire.
  So that's understandable. And there were a couple of boys from Russia. There were about a dozen girls, but they mostly treated the wounded and cooked. Maxim could have taken a girl on reconnaissance. Women were usually not accepted in combat. Although, in reconnaissance, a girl is better than a boy. She arouses less suspicion. And if the opportunity arises, she might even smuggle a stick of dynamite in a basket of flowers.
  Oleg was allowed to see the commander. The legendary commander was still a teenager, looking no more than fifteen. His face was ruddy, almost childish. But he was a strong fighter and a very accurate shot.
  He personally participates in the fighting. And it was lucky that we managed to catch him in camp. Usually, he's constantly on the move, attacking British troops.
  Things are not going well for the Boers now. The British have brought in additional reinforcements, increasing their numbers. And now, instead of a frontal assault, they plan to outflank the Boers. And the army of the Orange Republic is too small to cover the entire broad front.
  Oleg gently shook the legendary captain's hand. He was wearing a neat suit and patent leather boots. Of course, it's improper for a commander to show off his bare heels. Not so Oleg, who looks like a boy but has muscles like bundles of steel wire. And when a young warrior is bare-chested, it's very striking.
  The teenage boy and legendary captain asked:
  - What has the young warrior come with?
  Oleg said with a smile:
  "There's information that the British army is preparing to envelop the Boers from the flanks. And that they have fifteen times more soldiers than you, both infantry and cavalry, and they're bringing in new guns, including large-caliber ones!"
  The captain nodded with a sigh:
  "There are too many Englishmen. It's the largest empire in human history. And their population, including their colonies, is two thousand times greater than that of the Boer republics!"
  Oleg remarked with a smile:
  If the British are defeated, their colonies and dominions will certainly try to secede from the mother country, and they will no longer have time for a war in southern Africa. Moreover, Tsarist Russia could, under the cover of the situation, strike at British possessions in India and Indochina. This would be especially true if the troops of the Lion Empire become seriously bogged down in the fighting in southern Africa. Moreover, France and Germany could recall historical grievances and take away Britain's colonies!
  The young man whistled:
  - Wow! And that smart... Russian?
  Oleg shrugged:
  - You could say that I am Russian, or at least a Slav!
  And the immortal boy took a pebble from the floor with his bare toes and crushed it into sand.
  The captain, headstrong, exclaimed:
  - You've got some strength! I've never seen a guy like him. Can you shoot?
  Oleg said honestly:
  - I don't have much experience shooting with a Mauser, but I've tried other systems, including electric pistols, many times!
  The young captain muttered:
  - Electric pistols? Wow, I think you've been reading too much Jules Verne science fiction!
  Oleg chuckled and replied:
  - Perhaps! But did you know that you can make explosives ten times stronger than nitroglycerin from ordinary sawdust and coal dust!?
  The boy commander grinned and asked:
  - Yes? Is that true? You're not joking?
  The immortal boy nodded:
  "No! It's realistic! I think if we could blow up a few ammunition trains, the British advance would be delayed for a long time. A new, cautious commander wouldn't risk attacking without artillery support, and transporting new shells and bombs over such a long distance would take a long time!"
  The young captain nodded:
  "You're thinking sensibly! I think we can hold off the advance. But the Boer commander is rather stubborn. He sits in his fortifications and can't think of anything else. We repelled the British attacks with heavy losses, but didn't even try to exploit our success! And as your Grandmaster Chigorin, I believe, once said, to hold the initiative means to have an advantage."
  Oleg nodded with a smile and noted:
  "There are a lot of children; the birth rate in the nineteenth century was high. You have a children's battalion. What if we created our own army of youngsters and beat the British without depending on adults?"
  The boy commander confirmed:
  - That's not a bad idea! We could try it! Although, to be honest, war is no child's play!
  The immortal boy nodded in agreement:
  "Of course it's not for kids. But that doesn't make it any less interesting. For example, I'll tell you about the future, when the most popular computer games will be shooters. And it's really great to have fun while fighting!"
  The young captain confirmed:
  - War is interesting! But it's even better when there's peace and people don't kill each other!
  Another young man appeared, also about fifteen years old. He was clearly Captain Fanfar's friend, the Daredevil. Although they were friends, there was a certain tension. Fanfar wasn't much of a shot, except at stationary targets or at close range. And this created a certain tension, including with the other boys, most of whom were excellent marksmen.
  Fanfar winked at Oleg and extended his hand. The boy-terminator shook it with a smile and said:
  - The future is ours!
  Fanfar noted with a proud look:
  - I want to become like Joseph Barra!
  The boy commander replied:
  - It's a good wish, but... At thirteen, this young hero had already died, and I wanted us all to survive and win!
  Oleg Rybachenko nodded and noted:
  - If you want, I will tell you a story that few people know, how Joseph Barra was captured, and what cruel tortures he endured with unbending courage and withstood with honor!
  The young captain nodded vigorously:
  - Fine, tell us! I won't go on a mission today anyway, since it's the only day of the year I swore not to kill!
  Fanfar replied sadly:
  "And I... Well, I actually showed my best shooting result today, for me personally, of course. I've already learned to shoot pretty well at stationary targets, but moving ones are still a big problem for me!"
  Oleg answered confidently:
  - You're still young, you'll have time to learn!
  Parisian Gavroche chuckled and sang:
  That the light is teaching,
  In winter and spring...
  I affirm without exception,
  I'm not a forest oak!
  The boy commander muttered:
  - Come on, tell us! And then I'll show you how to shoot a Mauser. I think you'll be quicker than Fanfar-Tulip at this!
  Oleg began to tell his story with moderate enthusiasm:
   A drummer boy, Joseph Barra, was captured by the Royalists. The young drummer was only thirteen years old. They twisted his arms, tore off his boots and uniform. Barefoot, half-naked, they led the child into the fortress. There, the Royalists apparently wanted to extract information from the boy about the revolutionary, Jacobin army. Joseph Barra walked up the damp steps of the casemate, feeling the cold on his bare, childish feet.
  The boy was wearing only his underwear, and he was cold in the autumn dungeon.
  Young Joseph suddenly felt a warmth wafting through the room. Even though he was being led into a torture chamber, he felt a surge of joy from the pleasant warmth.
  And the boy's bare feet felt bliss as the cold stone slabs gave way to warm, smooth marble. Indeed, several fireplaces were blazing, heating iron and steel torture instruments. That's why it was so hot. A completely naked girl-beautiful but tortured-was hanging on the rack. One of the executioners was lashing the girl, while the other was raking up the heat beneath her graceful, bare feet.
  The beauty roared in pain. The smell of fresh, roasted meat was in the air, and it was very appetizing. The boy, Joseph, remembered that he hadn't eaten anything in a long time. Even the poor child's ribs were clearly protruding. But then the boy felt a surge of rage, and his blue eyes flashed like lightning. His fists clenched. The young drummer desperately tried to break the ropes, but his childish strength was too weak.
  And the executioner struck the boy with a whip. Joseph responded furiously: Glory to the revolution!
  The chief executioner growled:
  - We'll stretch him on the rack now! Take him!
  The executioners pounced on the boy. They were much larger than the emaciated and exhausted boy. They twisted Joseph's arms and tied them tightly behind him. Then they led him to the rack. The ceiling was quite high. And the chief executioner gave the order:
  - First, a shake-up!
  They began to slowly lift the boy. Joseph leaned forward and bent over. The executioners yanked him by the shoulders. With a gasp, the boy twisted on the rack and stood upright. They pulled him upward. The young drummer gritted his teeth. Higher and higher the rope tightened, lifting the boy to the very ceiling. Then, for a few moments, Joseph froze, frozen on the pike.
  The senior executioner commanded:
  - Let go!
  The torturers let go of the drum. And the boy plummeted. The rope tightened as he approached the floor, and the young drummer's joints were literally torn from his body. Joseph screamed, and the boy lost consciousness from the pain.
  They poured a bucket of ice water on him, and the boy came to his senses.
  The master of ceremonies jumped up to the young drummer and, bending down, hissed with his mouth filled with iron teeth:
  - Just say long live the king, and we will stop the torture!
  Joseph shouted back:
  - Long live the republic!
  The senior executioner ordered:
  - Shake it again!
  The torturers grabbed the boy and stood him upright. Then, with a creaking sound, the rope tightened again, and the child's body was lifted off the marble floor. The boy breathed heavily as they lifted him higher and higher. Then all the way to the cone. Then the senior executioner gave the order. The rope was immediately loosened, and the young drummer collapsed.
  The boy's naked, sinewy, bony body plummeted, skidding to a stop just before the floor, and the rope tightened. The child screamed again, but it didn't stop. Sweat could be seen trickling down the boy's body, and his muscular chest heaved. And with a heroic effort, Joseph held back the scream escaping his throat, gritting his teeth.
  One of the executioners laughed and lashed the boy's bare, childish feet with a whip. Compared to the pain from the shaking, it all seemed somehow trivial.
  The manager hissed:
  - Go ahead and shout: Long live the king! And then we'll let you go!
  The scribes prepared to record the child's repentance.
  Joseph yelled back:
  - Long live the republic!
  The senior executioner ordered:
  - The third shake!
  The half-naked, sweaty boy was pulled up again. And again the wheel creaked as the executioners lifted the boy-hero. Joseph knew what lay ahead and cried out:
  Who is used to fighting for victory,
  Let him sing with us...
  He who is cheerful laughs,
  Whoever wants it will achieve it,
  He who seeks will always find!
  The boy hung suspended at the very top of the ceiling. The executioners, grinning lecherously, released the rope. And again, the boy's skinny but sinewy body fell. Near the floor, the rope tightened again. And the young drummer passed out from the shock of pain. His round, childish face turned very pale.
  The senior executioner gives the order, and ice-cold water from the basement is poured on the child again.
  Joseph comes to with a snort, and a groan escapes the boy's chest. But with a heroic effort, the child clenches his teeth and stifles a scream, breathing heavily.
  The Chief Steward says:
  - Shout, "Long live the king," and we will stop the torture and let you go!
  Joseph exclaimed:
  - No! Never!
  The senior executioner nodded:
  - Now stretch him well on the rack with the help of a block!
  The boy was hung up and shaken. Then his bare feet were secured in an oak stock, bound with iron. Hooks protruded from it. It was clear that the boy's body had stretched, the veins more clearly visible.
  The senior executioner asked:
  - Say long live the king, or will I continue to torment you!
  The young drummer cried out desperately:
  - Long live the republic!
  The chief kat ordered:
  - Hang two weights on each side!
  The executioner's assistants began hanging weights, each weighing a pood. From one side of the stock, then the other. The boy's bare, sinewy body stretched taut like a string. And visibly, the child had grown longer. Joseph groaned, but clenched his teeth and managed to restrain himself. He was being stretched by the weight.
  The manager growled:
  - Shout long live the king! You're still just a child, you still have a long life to live!
  The young drummer roared:
  - Long live the republic!
  The senior executioner ordered:
  - Ten lashes with care!
  The tall executioner took a whip from the trash can and began to strike the boy's bare, sinewy back with half-force. The blows caused red streaks to rise.
  Joseph didn't utter a groan.
  The manager muttered:
  - Are you going to talk?
  The young drummer replied:
  - No!
  The senior executioner ordered:
  - Five lashes without mercy!
  The powerful torturer pulled out a whip, thicker and longer. He spread his legs wide to gain leverage and slammed it into the child's bare back with all his might. The tanned skin split, and blood gushed. The powerful torturer continued the beating, putting all his energy into each blow. With the final blow, he struck the boy's buttocks, splitting his underwear, leaving the young drummer completely naked. Blood trickled from the powerful blows. The boy's contorted face showed the effort he was making to hold back his screams.
  The manager cackled again:
  - Well, just say: long live the king, and you will be released and even given a purse of gold for the journey!
  The boy yelled again:
  - Long live the republic!
  The senior executioner said with a satisfied look:
  - Fry this boy's heels!
  The torturer on the right asked:
  - Grease with oil?
  The main kat nodded:
  - Of course! Maybe the boy will come to his senses, and there's no need to leave him a cripple for the rest of his life!
  The executioners pulled out bottles of olive oil and began to lubricate the young drummer's bare, childish soles. Joseph felt a wave of nausea from the touch of the executioners' filthy hands. He barely held back the urge to vomit. It helped that his stomach was practically empty, and there was nothing to burp with.
  Having finished the oiling, the executioners brought thin logs and built a fire under the boy's bare feet. They added sulfur to make the fire burn faster. They then ignited the fire with a torch.
  Red flames licked the children's heels with predatory tongues. Joseph trembled but held back his screams.
  The fire danced beneath the boy's bare feet as the executioners added thin logs. The smell of fresh, burnt meat filled the air, as if a wild boar were being roasted.
  The manager hissed:
  - Say it, boy, right now - long live the king!
  The boy, dripping with blood and sweat, yelled:
  - Yeah, well, to hell with you!
  The senior executioner ordered:
  - Now hit this impudent boy on the back with a hot wire!
  The torturers approached the fireplace and began extracting bundles of red-hot wire from it. They then jumped up to the boy and began striking him with the red-hot steel on his bare, sinewy, already battered back.
  Joseph felt a searing pain and groaned, but immediately bit his lip. They continued to beat him.
  A pair of executioners lashed the boy's back with bundles of oak-handled wire, red with heat. Another pair raked the heat beneath the boy's bare feet. But Joseph continued to maintain incredible courage.
  Another executioner, at the command of the senior kata, picked up a torch and held it to the boy's bare, muscular chest. The smell of burnt flesh grew stronger.
  The child drummer was beaten on the back with red-hot wire, his heels and chest were fried with fire, but he was like a titan.
  The manager shouted:
  - Say long live the king, and we will not only let you go, but we will also give you a whole purse of gold for the journey!
  In response, Joseph Bara sang:
  Sons of the Fatherland, arise,
  the great, glorious day has come!
  Answer the enemy's challenge,
  Raise their bloody flag,
  Answer the call of the enemy,
  Raise their bloody flag,
  Hear how the country groans
  under the yoke of terrible soldiers,
  they break into your home,
  killing both daughter and mother!
  
  To arms, citizen!
  Let's close our ranks,
  Forward, forward!
  And our fields and gardens,
  In a moment, impure blood will flood!
  
  What does this horde desire,
  slaves and would-be kings?
  For whom is it so persistently preparing
  its cart of shackles and chains?
  For whom is he so persistently preparing
  his cart of shackles and chains?
  They are for us! Will the French endure
  the burden of dishonor, for the challenge has been thrown down to us?
  We have cast off the bonds forever,
  They will not return to our feet!
  
  No, foreign mercenaries
  will not impose their law on us!
  We may be killed by them,
  but our stature will not bend in bow,
  We may be killed by them,
  But the camp will not bend in bow,
  Oh God, save our people!
  If we fall, we will not expect mercy,
  The despot can, without hope,
  keep us all in bridle forever!
  
  Tremble, vile tyrants,
  and you, alien mercenary rabble,
  For your devilish plans,
  the punishment you deserve awaits you!
  For your diabolical plans,
  you will receive the punishment you deserve!
  We are all fighters, and on the battlefield,
  the Heroes of France are countless.
  If they fall, you will witness
  the Fatherland's righteous vengeance!
  Remember honor, Frenchmen,
  and grant mercy
  to those whom enemy bonds
  constrain from joining us in battle!
  To those whom enemy bonds
  force to be with us in battle!
  And what about the bloody despots?
  And what about Bouillet's accomplices?
  Beasts know only one right:
  to devour the flesh of their mothers in the womb!
  
  Love for the fatherland and the people,
  give us strength for our revenge,
  and you, beautiful freedom,
  lead us into battle for truth and honor!
  And you, beautiful freedom,
  lead us into battle for truth and honor!
  Victory, you are rightfully waiting for us,
  Help us drive away the enemies,
  Let the defeated enemies see
  both your triumph and our glory!
  
  We will join the ranks with new strength,
  replacing our brave ancestors,
  we will find their ashes and graves,
  where the light of their courage shone!
  We will find their ashes and graves,
  where the light of their courage shone!
  Without regretting their fates,
  they met the news of death,
  and honor dictates our choice -
  to avenge them or follow them!
  
  For the revolution, our free one,
  The boy will fight all his life...
  The power is legitimate, the will of the people,
  The chains will be broken, the light-rebel man!
  CHAPTER No 2.
  The boy commander and Fanfar clapped in unison, and another teenage girl joined them. A pretty, rosy-cheeked, and robust specimen of the fair sex, with light-brown hair. She could be called beautiful, though she was a bit plump and would probably have gone on a diet in the twenty-first century. But her plumpness wasn't so much fat as muscle and meat, and she didn't look like a cow.
  The young captain nodded:
  "This is Mercedes! Actually, she has a different name, but I named her after the fiancée of Edmond Dantes, better known as the Count of Monte Cristo. By the way, she's very strong for a girl and an excellent shot!"
  Mercedes bowed and noted, looking at Oleg:
  "I've never seen such a muscular boy. He's like Hercules and Apollo as children!"
  The boy terminator replied:
  "Yes, a higher power has blessed me with such muscles. True, I have to do some things in return, but that's a matter of course! Nothing comes easy!"
  The boy captain ordered:
  - All the boys, let's go! Let's shoot!
  And he moved toward the exit. Fanfar trotted after him. He caught a glimpse of his boot heels. Although barefoot was more comfortable in warm weather-precisely because, as a homeless boy, Fanfar had flaunted bare heels almost year-round, or, in freezing temperatures, had wrapped his feet in whatever he could find-now he refused to take off his boots for anything. That would have made him look like a commoner. And now he held the rank of senior lieutenant, and formally the captain's first deputy.
  The teenage girl did not suffer from such prejudices, and her legs were so beautiful, graceful and seductive that shoes and stockings would only have ruined them.
  Oleg couldn't help but admire her bare, tanned, muscular legs. He'd always been attracted to physically strong women. Especially since he might be a child's body, but he had the mind of a very mature man.
  The girl is quite physically developed. Although, you wouldn't say the teenager is taller than both boy officers. But her facial features suggest she's still a girl, albeit an athletic one.
  Here they were, stepping out onto the shooting range. A warm wind blew in their faces, and the scents of trees, grass, water, and healthy boys' bodies filled the air.
  Some of the boys were doing push-ups or squats with weights and were sweating. But their smell, given their youth and health, wasn't offensive.
  The boy captain picked up a Mauser. This rifle was designed and developed in Germany. Unlike the famous Russian Mosin-Nagant rifle, it has a thinner barrel, a pistol-like stock, and overall greater accuracy, a softer trigger pull, and a slightly higher rate of fire.
  But the Mosin rifle is better for hand-to-hand combat. In the war with the Japanese, Russian weapons were perhaps superior in practical terms, but Tsarist Russia still managed to lose. In that war, the gods or higher powers somehow turned their backs on Tsar Nicholas II. And Russia was surprisingly unlucky. However, this doesn't absolve the Tsar of responsibility. In particular, he should have remained in St. Petersburg on January 9th, and perhaps this prevented Bloody Sunday and the subsequent revolution, or more precisely, the rebellion that partially changed the system from absolutism to a de facto constitutional monarchy.
  Oleg, however, only briefly considered this. The boy picked up the Mauser rifle and fired. The recoil was soft, and the bullet sank into the very center of the target. Having been given an immortal body by the gods, Oleg had acquired some skill along with it. When you aim intuitively and your trained hands automatically zero in on the target. And your vision is so sharp, you can even see the patterns on the leaves of distant trees.
  The boy commander noted:
  -That's good! Try again!
  Oleg fired again. And again, right at the center. Then the warrior girl threw her straw hat. Oleg was slightly taken aback, but his body reacted automatically, and the bullet hit the very center, throwing the hat higher. Then Mercedes launched the boomerang with her bare toes.
  It was flying much faster, and it was more difficult to hit it, especially since its flight path was jagged.
  The boy captain noted:
  - Even I don"t always hit it!
  Oleg, already having some experience in his young body, understood that in this case, the mind was the enemy. He needed to rely on intuition and take the shot using the subconscious skills of this body, this young superman. Moreover, he had considerable life experience, especially in writing science fiction. But as the saying goes, wit comes from woe.
  The boy hesitated and wavered. The boomerang managed to describe an arc, and Mercedes caught it this time with her hand and said with a smile:
  -And I'll repeat from dawn to dusk! Carado, carado, and damn it!
  Fanfar chuckled and noted:
  - There's no point in mentioning the devil!
  The boy captain remarked:
  "Our young friend didn't have time to fire. Throw again, harder, it'll be more effective!" The young man turned to Oleg. "And don't be shy, I see this is your first time holding a Mauser rifle." "Even if you miss, it won't be a disgrace!"
  The strongwoman threw the boomerang with all her might, and then kicked it again. She wore a short skirt, well above the knees, revealing the strength and muscle of her legs.
  Oleg felt anger well up inside him and fired, almost without aiming. The bullet hit the boomerang right in the center, and it shattered into pieces.
  The boy captain exclaimed:
  - Lovely! Simply super! Even I couldn't do that!
  Fanfar noted with a smile:
  - This is the kind of blow we strike from different countries!
  The female athlete noted:
  - Yes, that's great! But maybe we can make it more difficult. For example, shoot at the shell casing of a tossed cartridge?
  The young commander objected:
  - That's enough for today! Let him prove himself in hand-to-hand combat. How about a fight?
  Oleg nodded:
  - It is possible!
  Fanfar remarked with a smile:
  - He's got such muscles. He could even tear a bear apart!
  The boy captain asked:
  - What about fighting three at once?
  Oleg answered with a smile:
  - With three, so with three!
  The girl noted with a sweet, toothy smile:
  - Brave boy!
  The young commander commanded:
  - Squirrel, dragonfly, fox, come here!
  Three teenagers, apparently fourteen or fifteen, approached them. Two were wearing shoes, and the youngest was barefoot. They eyed the newcomer with suspicion. The boy seemed handsome and attractive, but he was a bit too muscular.
  The boy captain nodded and said:
  "You'll fight him. And keep in mind, even though he's younger than you, he's an incredibly strong fighter."
  The boys frowned. But they still began to take off their shirts, so as not to tear them in battle. They also took off their shoes, apparently to be on equal terms. The boys were still teenagers, beardless and mustacheless, with pleasant, tanned faces and sun-bleached hair. Their bodies were muscular, their skin tanned by the sun.
  Oleg thought it was wrong to beat up minors. He was a minor himself, after all. He could realistically estimate his chances. And they were high; he knew his body.
  The young captain shouted:
  - Fight with full force!
  Three teenagers advanced on Oleg. The Terminator boy, remembering how he'd fought in his new body, abruptly punched the fighter on his right. He fell. Although the blow landed on his shoulder, it was too strong and too fast.
  The other two boys were confused; they clearly didn"t expect this from the boy.
  Oleg sensed the thrill of the fight and went on the attack. He kicked the second boy in the chin with his bare heel, causing his jaw to shatter. He quickly lifted the third boy to his outstretched arms and threw him. He fell with a scream and was finished off with a blow to the back of the head. Another boy, hit in the shoulder, tried to get up. He struggled to his bare teenage feet. Oleg punched the other boy three times and knocked him out with a powerful blow to the jaw.
  All three boys were knocked unconscious and the fight was won by knockout.
  Mercedes exclaimed in admiration:
  - This is power!
  And the boys who had gathered to watch the fight shouted in unison:
  Well done, well done,
  Showed strength!
  Being friends with him is like playing with a crocodile!
  Oleg raised his fists and roared:
  We will tear the ghouls to pieces,
  And powerful, like oak,
  Physically healthy!
  I am a wolf, and that means I am the king of beasts!
  And the boy warriors, of course, jokingly sang:
  Well done, well done, he fights like a lion,
  Only the hare gets him!
  And there was laughter. And Oleg jumped up and somersaulted about ten times!
  And more applause. The boy landed on his hands and began juggling with his bare feet, using some rather heavy stones.
  Captain Dashing, aka Jean Grandier, patted Oleg on the shoulder and sang:
  It is evil to be proud of one"s power,
  And it seems the whole world has come to terms with him...
  But be a boy and be like a cherub,
  And we will give evil a clear lesson!
  Another boy, Paul Potter, ran up. He was barefoot and wearing shorts, a boy who looked about twelve, though he was actually thirteen, but strong and easily handling a hefty rifle. He announced with a cheerful expression:
  - We defeated one of the British echelons and captured something!
  And he pointed to the box.
  Jean asked with a smile:
  - Are there cartridges?
  Paul replied with a smile:
  - No! There's chocolate in there! The box is big, enough for the whole battalion!
  Two girls ran up, flashing their naked, pink, childish heels, and deftly began to open the box with a master key.
  Fanfan remarked with a cheerful look:
  - We have a new one here, all ready!
  Jean nodded:
  - Yes, this is truly a rare fighter!
  Paul squeaked with a smile, so childish and sweet, even though this kid had already clicked on a lot of people:
  - Prove it!
  Oleg picked up a pebble with his strong, childish toes and hurled it upward. A crow-like bird took a hard hit and, shedding feathers, plummeted like a downed airplane.
  The young warriors clapped again. And it looked quite beautiful. The boys were delighted.
  Paul chuckled and remarked:
  - I can do better!
  And he fired his gun. It was heavy, and it was surprising that a small, barefoot boy in shorts could handle it so easily.
  And another crow fell down.
  Jean asked with a smile:
  - Can you do it with your legs?
  Paul winked and replied:
  - No, I'm not a pervert!
  Oleg noted:
  "This gun takes a long time to reload. Maybe it would be better to use a Mauser? It fires much faster."
  Potter Jr. replied:
  - Less is more! The Mauser doesn't really kill, but my rifle sure hits!
  Jean objected:
  "And the Mauser knocks things out well! Besides, the rifle is heavy, and it won't be easy for the pony! By the way, the newbie should get a mount! He's small, and it won't be difficult!"
  Oleg objected:
  - I don't need a horse! I can run faster than a horse myself!
  Paul exclaimed:
  - Whistle!
  The boy genius suggested:
  - Let's make a bet!
  Potter Jr. asked:
  - For what?
  Oleg quickly replied:
  - Here's your share of chocolate!
  - Here we go!
  The boys and girls of the battalion of youngsters supported this with friendly laughter and applause.
  Paul put his gun down. He had a small but very agile horse, with a touch of Arabian blood. And it truly was one of the fastest in the detachment. Since there were no adult men among the fighters, only teenagers and children, the mounts were either ponies or small horses, to make them harder to spot. They tried to avoid even tall young men in the detachment, lest they be too conspicuous.
  Paul usually traveled barefoot-it was easier. And when working in the fields, shoes only got in the way.
  It's warm here, and the child's fingers are tenacious; if necessary, it will be much easier to climb a tree or even a wall with bare feet.
  Oleg, having become an immortal boy, could only wear shoes if camouflage required it. Otherwise, neither cold nor heat was a threat to him.
  Considering how fast he runs, his shoes are almost guaranteed to tear.
  Both boys went to the starting line. There was a track around the camp, like a large stadium.
  The other child warriors followed them.
  They whistled and chuckled. One boy of about thirteen, also barefoot, wearing a striped vest, exclaimed:
  - Hold on, land! Russia is with us!
  Oleg looked at the boy. The sun had turned his hair the color of overripe wheat, while his face had darkened from the sun. But it must be said that white boys, in general, at the tender age of thirteen, look very similar. You can't even tell by their faces whether this one is Russian or that one German. Boers, by the way, are mostly Germans, and they look very similar, especially in childhood, when Teutonic and Slavic features aren't particularly evident.
  It's even surprising why during the Second World War both peoples hated each other so much.
  Oleg answered with a smile:
  The Russian warrior does not groan in pain,
  A Russian warrior never sleeps on patrol!
  He won't drown even in a black hole,
  His spirit will not burn in the plasma of the stars!
  After which the boys reached the finish line. Paul was a cute kid, and so far had escaped serious injury. But he already had quite a few bodies to his name. So looks can be deceiving.
  The children here are like real monsters, although most of them, due to their tender age, have an angelic appearance.
  Oleg noted that all the boys were white, even though there were four times as many blacks in Transvalnia and the Orange Free State as whites. This suggests that the indigenous Africans generally don't care who oppresses them: the Boers or the British. Especially since the British have colonial troops made up of blacks, Arabs, and Indians, while the Boers are blatantly racist.
  Oleg began to doubt whether he should have gotten involved in this squabble. As the saying goes, not-so-good guys fight those who are no better. At least the Boers are defending their land. And they have more truth in this matter.
  For example, if we take the more modern war between Ukraine and Russia, the Ukrainians still have more truth, since they're defending their land from an aggressor. So, Oleg, he's fighting on the side of those who are defending their own.
  There are no saints anywhere. Everyone, as they say, has their own little sins, and there are no saints. Take Paul, for example, who avenges his father, who was executed by the British. Although they could have sent him to hard labor, and then staged an escape.
  But it wasn't his idea, really, but that of his powerful masters, who are forcing him to earn his immortality. Well, in this case, he dreamed of fighting alongside Captain Daredevil as a child. And his dream came true, and now he's a boy again, and that's great and awesome!
  Oleg was a bit lost in his thoughts and missed the start. And Paul, on his thoroughbred, took off first. And it was clear he had a truly fine and spirited steed.
  The immortal boy lied too. And at full speed. His bare, strong, muscular legs flashed.
  Oleg closed the distance like an octopus, but didn't overtake Paul. He raced after him, breathing down his neck, and began singing:
  We raise a column of dust,
  We rush like meteors...
  There will be a defeat for the enemy,
  Crushing even mountains!
  Paul , whipping his horse, squeaked in response:
  - Stop playing around! Overtake me if you can!
  Oleg chuckled and jumped. He flew over the local sniper boy and chirped:
  There's a nightmare in my pupils,
  One jump - one strike!
  And now the boy genius was racing ahead. Then Paul pulled spurs from his belt and fastened them to his bare, childish, tanned feet. Then they began jabbing the steed in the flank more vigorously. The miniature horse quickened its pace, almost overtaking Oleg. But the young genius also began to run faster. He could outrun a cheetah, after all. And his flesh was immortal.
  Paul growled like a small animal, and even pulled out a dagger and began stabbing his steed. Blood came out.
  Oleg immediately turned around and snatched the dagger from the boy"s hands with his bare toes, yelling:
  - Don't you dare hurt this cute creature!
  Paul snapped and reached for his hand, but remembered he didn't have a gun. It was too heavy, so the young warrior simply took it off to save weight.
  And now you can see how furious Paul is. His blue eyes are flashing.
  And so he leaped from his bloodied steed and lunged at Oleg with his fists. The boy genius caught his opponent's fist and twisted it. Paul groaned in pain and tried to strike with his other hand.
  Oleg parried the blow and then threw a punch of his own. He moved so quickly that the man simply couldn't react to such rapid movements.
  Paul took a punch to the chin and fell. Oleg tried to hit him hard enough to knock him out but not break the bone.
  After all, this was one of our own. Paul fell, arms and legs sprawled out. A tall, barefoot Mercedes ran up to him, along with a girl of about ten, similar to the fallen boy-clearly his sister. And with her was a boy of about nine, Paul's younger brother, carrying a lighter German-made rifle, specially made for scouts.
  This type of rifle is also easy to hide.
  Mercedes checked Paul's jaw and noted with a satisfied smile:
  - It's not broken!
  Fanfan ran up and asked:
  - And who won?
  Jean noted with a smile:
  "Actually, Oleg won! He outsprinted his opponent and knocked him out! But to make sure no one gets offended, I'm awarding it a draw!"
  A girl of about ten, barefoot, tanned, scratched, as she was often sent on reconnaissance missions, or rather, she herself asked to be sent there, noted with terrible force:
  - Yes, my brother deserves to taste chocolate! And your new boy is amazingly strong!
  Mercedes noted:
  - And he's so kind, he took pity on the poor animal that Paul was stabbing! He really has a big heart!
  The child warriors applauded once again. It was truly something special.
  Jean announced:
  - Now everyone wash your hands! We're going to have lunch!
  The food at the children's battalion was quite good, including mushroom soup and game. The young warriors hunted many of their own food, as well as foraging for mushrooms, berries, and fruit in the generous African climate.
  It's really strange that black people are starving, even though they can harvest four crops a year - the land here is so generous.
  Oleg sang with inspiration:
  - The earth is generous to us sinners,
  And the skies are full of threat...
  The boys are a close-knit family,
  Roses smell so good before a storm!
  Mercedes noted:
  - Yes, we really are like brothers and sisters! And our friendship is the key to survival!
  Paul woke up after a bucket of ice-cold water from a deep well was poured over him. The boy sniper sat down next to Oleg and remarked:
  - You have an iron fist!
  The boy genius replied with a smile:
  - And the head is not made of cast iron either!
  For dessert, the maids prepared a beautiful cake. It was shaped like a large, Napoleonic tricorne. Each person got a piece, and they carefully sliced it.
  And they laid it out on plates. The boys had forks, spoons, and knives made of silverware. These were from the trophy stocks captured from the British.
  The boys and girls began to eat the sponge cake and cream with roses carefully, savoring it.
  Paul noted:
  "The British are now transferring significant forces and preparing a new offensive. There are so many of them that we might not have enough bullets for them all!"
  Oleg noted:
  "The worst thing is that they have a different commander. They could use Hannibal's tactics at Cannae-attacking from the flanks and creating pincers to encircle our troops."
  Paul smiled and asked:
  "I'm a simple boy, a peasant's son, and I didn't go to any academy, so I don't know who Hannibal is! I can only write, read, and even know my multiplication tables! True, I shoot better than many adults!"
  The boy genius replied:
  Hannibal was Carthage's most famous and finest commander during the Punic War. From an early age, he swore to destroy Rome and fight to the last drop of blood. Hannibal's army left Spain and crossed the Alps, arriving in northern Italy and Upper Gaul. Although many of Hannibal's soldiers perished during the march, unable to withstand the difficulties, in Gaul the army was replenished with local residents dissatisfied with Rome's exploitation. Hannibal won several victories, and inflicted a crushing defeat on the Roman army at Cannae-a defeat that has become part of military textbooks. Rome had eighty thousand infantry against forty thousand Carthaginians, but Hannibal had ten thousand cavalry against six thousand Romans. When the legions of the Eternal City advanced into battle, hoping to crush the Carthaginian army in the center, Hannibal's troops attacked the flanks. Moreover, the renowned commander employed another innovation-concentration of attack. His brother attacked with eight thousand, two thousand Roman cavalry on the left flank, while the other commander pinned down four thousand enemy cavalry with two thousand of his own. After defeating the left flank, the Carthaginian cavalry, outflanking the infantry, fell upon the Romans from the right rear, slaughtering virtually the entire cavalry. Then they struck the infantry from behind. Hannibal's troops, meanwhile, formed a horseshoe. The Romans were surrounded and routed. Since then, flanking attacks have been compared to Cannae.
  Paul whistled:
  - Wow! That's great! Hannibal's tactics are probably quite effective!
  Mercedes noted:
  - I have a book: Generals of Ancient Rome, I recommend you read it, it"s very interesting and informative!
  The boy sniper noted:
  - We have no time to read here! We need to plant the dynamite again tonight. And blow up the railroad!
  Oleg remarked with a smile:
  - A bridge is better! The railway track can be restored in a few hours, but a bridge will take at least a week!
  Paul sighed and remarked:
  "The bridges are very well guarded, and there's barbed wire and electric fences, and most importantly, dogs. Electricity isn't really that scary; throw on a rubber coat and gloves, but trained bulldogs and German shepherds are a real problem!"
  The boy genius noted:
  - There is a remedy for dogs, and it is very effective and simple!
  The boy sniper asked curiously:
  - And what kind?
  Oleg answered with a sweet smile:
  - You need to smear yourself with the fat of a lion or a tiger, and then the dog, afraid of being torn apart by a large, predatory cat, will not dare to make a sound!
  Paul exclaimed:
  - You're such a smart guy! I never would have thought of that!
  Jean nodded with a smile:
  "And it's that simple? But dogs really are a problem. We even shoot them with Mausers, just like we do with English soldiers!"
  Mercedes noted:
  "It's still okay to poison dogs, although it's kind of mean. After all, the animal isn't to blame and is only doing its duty!"
  Fanfan logically noted:
  "But the English soldiers aren't to blame either. They were given orders, and they obeyed, perhaps even without the desire to kill. It's somehow unpleasant to shed blood!"
  Oleg noted:
  - It's better not to think about it! Just imagine that this is all trivial, a very realistic, but not real war game, and you'll feel better!
  CHAPTER No 3.
  After lunch was over, the boys and girls washed their hands again. Then Paul and Oleg went lion hunting. As often happens with children, the boys first fought, but then became friends.
  Paul's brother, Edik, and his sister, along with a couple of other children, about ten years old but excellent marksmen, went with them. Thus, six young warriors-five boys and a girl-set off into the forest, or rather, into a semblance of jungle and savannah-the transitional climate of southern Africa.
  It was a barefoot team. The boys preferred comfortable shorts, like shorts. They smeared them with a special, fragrant tincture, so the insects wouldn't bite them. The girl also wore an old, knee-length dress, like an ordinary peasant child. And she didn't arouse suspicion. If a boy might be suspected of being a spy, then surely a young representative of the fair sex...
  But for now, they need to hunt lions. Oleg was the only one running on foot. An immortal body never tires. That's why he's immortal. Although, half-naked, a boy in shorts, running and shuffling his bare feet through the grass, looks a little comical. Especially when the other children are riding, moving at a special gait-the front legs of the small horses trot, while the hind legs break into a gallop.
  Paul asked Oleg:
  - Did your Hannibal live before the birth of Jesus Christ or after?
  The boy genius answered confidently:
  - Of course before! Back then, Rome was still a Republic, and far from the most powerful in the world!
  The boy sniper nodded and asked:
  "But you, I see, are a learned boy, and most likely a nobleman, even though you run around barefoot and in shorts. So tell me, why is there so much evil on Earth under the rule of an Almighty, Loving, All-Knowing God?"
  Oleg smiled and replied:
  "It's certainly an interesting question. But you have to admit, if the world had no problems at all, and we were lying on the couch with cream pies falling onto our plates, then you have to admit, from living like that, we'd turn into animals, lazy, fat pigs, and simply die of boredom. But there's a war going on, and that's interesting. And hunting a lion is even more interesting if the lion can eat you!"
  Paul laughed and noted:
  "That seems like a wise observation! Although, for example, there are different kinds of evil. For example, when there's a war, it's evil, but truly interesting. But when people die from the plague, or angina pectoris, there's nothing interesting about that!"
  Oleg nodded in agreement:
  - Yes, illness is not as interesting as fights, battles, feasts, love for a girl!
  The boy sniper giggled and then his childish face darkened and he remarked:
  "Girls really are very beautiful, simply magnificent, like fresh, newly bloomed flowers. But with age, they become so ugly and disgusting. It's simply painful to look at old women; it actually makes you feel sick!"
  The boy genius also grimaced and noted:
  - That's true. Old women are really nasty!
  Paul asked:
  - Why would God make women age? Doesn't He find it disgusting?
  Oleg shrugged and replied:
  "Yes, there's a lot in the world that's unclear. I think even Hitler, if he had all the power, would have preferred young and beautiful slaves rather than ugly old women. But I must say, not everything in the world is so simple. And don't think everything is as it's written in the Bible. In reality, life and the universe are much more complex. And you shouldn't think that only God decides everything and has all the levers!"
  Edik's younger brother noted:
  "If God could, He wouldn't have let our father be shot! Which means God might not be omnipotent after all!"
  Oleg grinned and remarked:
  - And absolute Omnipotence is in principle impossible!
  Paul asked:
  - And why is that?
  The boy genius replied:
  - Well, answer this question: can God forge a chain that He Himself would not be able to break?
  The boy sniper wrinkled his tall, handsome, childish forehead, twitched his arms, kicked his bare feet and replied:
  - Yes, that's tricky! If you say you can, it's not right, and it can't, then that's also not right! One way or another, it turns out that something is beyond the power of Almighty God!
  The girl squealed, slapped her small, bare foot on the hanging liana and chirped:
  The flesh in hell languishes from the heat,
  And it's time for all of us to understand...
  He who does not know faith in the Lord,
  Will fall under the yoke of the Devil!
  After which Paul's sister Stella laughed in a thin voice.
  The child warriors delved into the forest, a mixture of savannah and jungle. It looked wonderful.
  Oleg tried to activate his sense of smell. His sense of smell is superhuman, better than any bloodhound's. But immediately, a multitude of different scents invaded his nostrils. Including the children's bodies of his young partners, sweaty horses and ponies, and a multitude of grasses and other animals. It's unclear how even a bloodhound can discern all this.
  There is such a cacophony of aromas here that the devil can"t make them out.
  Paul chuckled and asked:
  - Do you want to figure out the lion with your nose?
  Oleg nodded and picked a flower with his bare foot:
  - I can figure him out by his smell!
  Edik noted:
  "A lion needs to be caught with bait. In this case, the best way to catch it is with the howl of a lustful female."
  Stella relaxed and remarked:
  - Wow! Maybe I should do this!
  Paul objected:
  - No! I am the oldest of you, and I have the strongest voice, and a lot of hunting experience.
  Oleg wanted to say that he was the eldest, and that was indeed true according to calendar years, but he decided it was best not to argue-no one would believe him anyway. Besides, he didn't know how to imitate a female lion's tonality? Really, let Paul teach him. There's nothing shameful about it!
  The boy genius reached up and, with his bare toes, plucked a very bright and exotic African flower. He handed it to the pretty and oh-so-sweet girl, Stella. She bowed in return and chirped:
  - Merci!
  And Paul puffed out his rosy, childish cheeks and began to produce some sounds reminiscent of an animal's roar.
  Oleg began to listen carefully to the tones so that he could imitate them himself if necessary.
  All sorts of thoughts started to creep into the boy's head. For example, that children are wonderful warriors, capable of so much. And that being shorter was only an advantage-it was harder to hit him. If he needed to reach a piece of fruit, he'd just jump.
  The boy genius picked up a piece of broken bark with his bare toes and began drawing something on a burdock leaf. More precisely, a tank. And not just any tank, but a pyramidal one. It was one of his ideas for science fiction novels, where similar exotic yet effective machines were used.
  This tank had large, rationally sloped armor from all angles, making it well protected from all sides, and especially from air attacks.
  For example, in science fiction works such as the series "Captain Führer" or "Nuclear Warfare," this type of tank provided the Germans with excellent protection from American attack aircraft and bombers.
  Well, this is, of course, science fiction, although a pyramidal tank could play a significant role in the twenty-first century. And it should be put into production. Especially if such vehicles were made small, agile, and crewed by just one person.
  This would have been a very effective weapon even in the twenty-first century. I imagine the military-industrial complex was interested in it, and the tank would have performed better in combat than the Armada.
  Oleg's thoughts were interrupted. The boy's keen hearing detected the sound of something large creeping along on soft but clawed paws. Judging by the sound, the animal must be quite heavy. And since tigers aren't found in South Africa, it was clearly a lion.
  Oleg whispered to Paul:
  - Looks like Numba is crawling!
  The boy sniper asked again:
  - Do you mean a lion?
  The boy genius nodded:
  - Yes, long-maned!
  Paul said with a smile:
  "Not every Mauser shooter can shoot down a lion. But my gun definitely can."
  Oleg suggested:
  - Can I kill the lion?
  The boy sniper laughed:
  - You? You don't even have a dagger! Are you doing this with your bare hands?
  The boy genius exclaimed:
  - With bare hands and bare feet!
  Stella laughed and squeaked:
  "Now that's a real man! To take on a lion even without a dagger-that's something to behold!"
  Oleg jokingly sang in response:
  I'm friends with the bear,
  I'm on the bear, my friends...
  I'll go out without fear!
  If I'm with a friend!
  If I'm with a friend!
  And the bear is without a friend!
  After which the children fell silent. Paul whispered:
  - Okay, go ahead and try it! If anything happens, I'll blow the lion's brains out!
  Oleg listened. The lion was approaching. The boy-superman's sensitive nostrils could already detect the big cat's pungent scent. Oleg was immortal, after all, and the lion wouldn't kill him under any circumstances. The boy even thought that this wasn't exactly bravery on his part-anyone with an invulnerable body could do that.
  But the desire to try something new prevailed. Besides, Tarzan came to mind. He, too, fought lions. Usually, though, with a dagger in hand. But in the novel "Tarzan and His Beasts," a man defeated a rather large panther barehanded, unarmed. And that was impressive, considering Tarzan isn't immortal. I wonder if there were any stories about this super-Mowgli after World War II? Tarzan was quite old during the American-Japanese war. After all, Tarzan already had a grown son in World War I! And he looked about thirty. Something of a mountaineer was also evident.
  Imagine, for example, Tarzan ending up in the twenty-first century? How cool and funny that would be! And who would Tarzan, this Rambo, fight? Maybe Ben Laden? The last bandit in real history resembled a comic book hero. And the United States needs heroes. America needs a young, strong, and energetic leader, not an old wreck!
  Oleg took it and whispered:
  War rages in the universe,
  War without any particular reason...
  For this, youth is needed,
  Anti-wrinkle medicine!
  Well, he sensed the lion approaching, closer and closer. The main thing was that the beast didn't sense them. However, Oleg was confident that in his immortal body he could catch the big cat. Moreover, it wasn't a given that the lion would run away from the children. After all, that would be a disgrace for the king of beasts.
  Oleg and the other child warriors saw Numba emerge from the thicket, looking around, shaking his mane. The beast was quite large, even for a lion, and had fangs, was young and hot-blooded. He clearly wanted to taste the female.
  Oleg whispered to Paul:
  - The main thing is don't shoot! I'll do it myself!
  And the boy genius leaped out onto the flowerbed. For some reason, he thought the lion would run away. But the powerful predator looked at the little boy with disdain. He had to admit, a human cub didn't seem like a serious opponent. However, the first signs of hunger were already rumbled in the carnivorous predator's stomach. And without a second thought, the lion pounced on the boy.
  Oleg saw the predator's movements as if in slow motion. The immortal boy fell backward, letting the lion pass over him, and tossed the monster with his bare, strong, muscular legs.
  And the lord of the jungle flew from the impact and landed on his back.
  What a terrible roar the bruised lion let out.
  Oleg jumped up and sang:
  Don't give up, don't give up, don't give up!
  In a fight with monsters, boy, don't be shy!
  You fight, you fight, you fight,
  Know that everything will be wonderful and okay!
  The lion lunged again, but the boy leaped over him and kicked him hard in the rear with his bare heel. The predator growled in fear. Oleg grabbed him by the tail and yanked him hard. The lion flew back with a wild howl and fell again.
  The boy roared:
  - We will become braver and more courageous than a lion!
  And when the predator tried to attack again, Oleg the Terminator suddenly struck him in the chin. With such force that his teeth literally fell out. And with blood.
  Superman Boy, controlling the fight, chirped:
  The horizon is filled with a bloody glow,
  And the roar of explosions can be heard in the distance!
  The lion tried to attack again, but was struck hard by a child's bare foot, spinning around, so fast it felt like lightning flashing. The lion was thrown back with colossal force again, and bones and drops of blood rained down.
  Paul exclaimed with admiration:
  - This is a super fighter!
  Oleg, however, felt the thrill of it. He began to pummel the lion with all his might, his bare, strong, boyish feet slashing like steel crowbars. And all the while, the young gladiator and terminator rolled into one, chanted:
  Leo is a cripple in thinking,
  The tiger is the source of all sorts of troubles...
  More interesting than a person,
  There is nothing in the world!
  And again the boy-superman hits the lion with his bare legs, which are muscular, as if woven from wire, and adds:
  More interesting than a person,
  There is nothing in the world!
  We are from the Stone Age -
  We send greetings to Jupiter!
  Oleg did a triple somersault and again slammed his bare feet into the lion's skin, breaking its ribs. Bloody bubbles streamed from the predator's mouth. It looked quite impressive.
  The boy-superman, continuing to beat the monster, began to sing:
  We kill, we are killed,
  How often this does not coincide...
  I follow fate as a shadow,
  And I'm getting used to the mismatch!
  Stella chirped:
  - Finish off the lion, finish him off!
  Oleg continued the beating, mostly with his feet. These weren't just children's limbs, but real crowbars. And they crushed the bones thoroughly.
  The boy-terminator sang:
  Hit, hit, hit again,
  Another blow and here it is...
  The boy shows a gift,
  He delivers an uppercut!
  He pins the lion to the corner,
  To keep the predator from escaping...
  The monster is defeated and on the floor,
  He's not feeling well!
  The lion lost strength and eventually, letting out streams of blood, or rather whole rivulets, from his mouth, he became quiet.
  The paws continued to twitch for another half a minute, but Paul couldn"t stand it any longer and shot him in the head, exclaiming:
  - As an act of mercy!
  Oleg remarked sarcastically:
  - Look how cunning! Show me the hole in your head and say you killed the lion yourself!
  Paul shook his head:
  - No! We'll tell the truth, just as it was!
  Stella confirmed, stamping her bare, childish foot:
  - We'll tell you everything as it is!
  Edik confirmed:
  - Yes! At our age, children don"t lie, they only make things up!
  Paul noted:
  "The lion's quite heavy, almost three hundred kilograms. We'll probably skin him right there and take off his hide! It'll be hard to transport him whole! Our ponies won't be able to handle it!"
  Oleg said with a smile:
  - I'll carry it myself! Believe me, I can do it!
  Edik exclaimed with admiration:
  - What a heroic boy!
  Stella squeaked:
  - That's exactly it - let the lion show us our prey in its entirety!
  Paul doubted:
  "You'll carry such a carcass back to camp. Only a mighty man could lift it onto his shoulder."
  Oleg exclaimed confidently:
  - Strength is not in the muscles, but in the head!
  And the boy-superman hoisted the lion's carcass onto his shoulders. Then, for added persuasiveness, he broke into a run. His bare, childish heels flashed.
  The five riders, including the girl, spurred their miniature horses. Here was the children's team returning with their spoils, and without losses. The young warriors were happy and began to sing:
  Soldiers are fighting for the Motherland,
  They are girls, barefoot boys...
  Let's just say it straight - well done,
  They gave the Englishmen a hard time!
  
  Although the task is not easy for them,
  To fight fiercely against the countless horde...
  The boy holds the gun like an oar,
  After all, the Boers are used to fighting, children!
  
  We people are hardened by warfare,
  The war has been going on for months now...
  All daughters and sons in battle,
  And we believe that Jesus will rise again for us!
  
  We want to be independent,
  Don't become another British region...
  The thread of our life threatens to break,
  May souls rush to the bosom of paradise!
  
  Well, boy, don"t be shy in battle,
  Don't let your honor be trampled by shame...
  After all, a husband is an eagle, not a timid sparrow,
  And for the enemies the battle will end in defeat!
  
  Although there are a lot of evil Englishmen,
  And with them come the Arabs and Indians...
  Our eyes are clouded with fog,
  But warriors from Africa are not cowards!
  
  We swore to defend our Fatherland,
  The evil lion will not bring us to our knees...
  Write this down in your notebook, boy,
  In the name of all future generations!
  
  Let the Orange Republic blossom,
  And Transylvania will be covered with flowers...
  We will go to communism now,
  To fill the bright world with dreams!
  
  Our commander is the most glorious Jean the Frenchman,
  The leader assembled a team of youngsters...
  He is very nice like Jesus,
  He will be able to make warriors and children!
  
  We'll break through any front, believe me, guys,
  And of course we will defeat the British.
  If necessary, we will attack even a fort,
  And the boy will become a valiant hero!
  
  No, the young men won't have to blush,
  At least the boy didn't grow a moustache...
  And if you need to die in glory,
  This is what boys were born for!
  
  If necessary, we will fly to Mars,
  These are our boys and girls...
  We will show you the absolute highest class,
  They'll break the lion's back, believe me, guys!
  
  When the war with the enemy ends,
  We will drive the English out of Africa...
  The evil Satan will not rule,
  Believe me, we can defeat any Horde!
  
  The Lord Christ will resurrect the dead,
  And people will be forever in the kingdom of God...
  Let us not shed any more tears,
  Don't be in shameful spiritual slavery!
  
  There will be Eden on the whole planet,
  An era of glory, joy and happiness...
  This is a time of glorious change,
  When will the thunderstorms and bad weather disappear?
  
  And each one will be like a cherub,
  Handsome, young and of course well-fed...
  Children, we will truly defeat our enemies,
  The enemy will be completely defeated!
  
  And then the thrushes will sing our hymn,
  Their trill is beautiful, wonderfully majestic...
  And the fresh scent of spring thunderstorms,
  And a new, free state!
  So sang the Boer children, a barefoot band of youngsters. They walked a little way from the road and came to a stream. They grabbed some food and ate. Just then, Paul shot a zebra.
  By this time, Oleg was hungry and enjoyed the fresh meat. The children ate and talked.
  Paul noted:
  - You have superhuman strength. Maybe you're from another world?
  Oleg clarified:
  - Are you trying to tell me that I am from another planet?
  - Yes, you could say that!
  The boy genius replied with a smile:
  - I know for sure that everything impossible is possible! But you just have to firmly believe in it with your heart!
  Paul chuckled and noted:
  - Yes, it"s funny in its own way!
  And the boy sniper stuck out his tongue. The conversation seemed amusing. The young warriors ate and moved on. Then Oleg heard English and took notice.
  - There is an English squadron five miles from us!
  Paul chuckled and asked:
  - A whole squadron? Or smaller?
  Oleg shrugged and replied:
  "At least two hundred horsemen. Most are Arabs, but the commanders are British. Do you want to accept the fight or save them for another time?"
  Paul smiled and replied:
  "I don't want to risk the children's lives. Otherwise, I would have combed through them. But they don't come to us, do they?"
  The boy genius answered confidently:
  - Not yet. But if necessary, we can attack them.
  Stella suggested:
  "We'll deliver the lion's carcass to the camp, and then we'll come back and count the ribs of this squadron. It's not on fire yet!"
  Paul nodded:
  - Let's move towards the camp!
  And the five horses, along with the barefoot boy, took off. This time, the rebeta and the girl urged the miniature horses with all their might, even wearing spurs. Oleg, however, despite his weight, still overtook them and even began singing:
  Why, why, why,
  Was the traffic light green?
  And because, because, because,
  That he was in love with life!
  And everyone runs, runs, runs -
  And I'm running!
  And everyone runs, runs, runs,
  And I'm running!
  In the age of speed and sparklers,
  It turned on by itself...
  So that on Earth, both yours and mine,
  The green light has come!
  Oleg was the first to run into the camp. Despite the astonishing sight of a barefoot boy in shorts carrying the carcass of a large lion, battered and bloody to boot, the young warriors were not surprised.
  On the contrary, Oleg was greeted with jubilation. It really was incredibly cool. Moreover, the defeated monster was much larger than the child who carried it.
  The boy handed the carcass to the boys. They began to butcher it. Which was actually pretty cool. A small, but significant, victory.
  And the child warriors are delighted.
  Paul and his team arrived later. They, too, were greeted with honor.
  Stella announced:
  - Well, guys, I have something to talk about! There's an English squadron hanging around nearby, it's time to thin them out!
  Paul nodded and confirmed:
  - Two dozen guys - one to ten is enough to knock them all out!
  Fanfar confirmed:
  - This is it! Choose a team!
  Paul quickly selected the boys. Almost all of them were even younger than him, and all barefoot. But they were good shots, even though half of them had lightweight Mauser models.
  The boys galloped off, and Oleg, of course, joined them. He wanted to fight, too. Though a fleeting thought crossed his mind: isn't it a sin to kill people?
  However, if you take the Bible, its heroes killed, and how they killed. Especially King David. And you can also remember Samson. In particular, by collapsing the temple, he killed more than three thousand people. And after all, there were not only male warriors in the temple, but also women and children. Yes, that's a truly strange moral. You can also remember Elisha, who set bears on the children, and they tore forty-two of them to pieces.
  Well, there's nothing to say about the Koran. All religions, in one way or another, tolerated violence and murder. And Buddhism didn't stop the Japanese from fighting fanatically and frantically.
  So fight and gain experience.
  Paul remarked with a sweet look:
  - He who defends his homeland is not a murderer!
  Edik chuckled and remarked:
  - A soldier is both a killer and not a killer. As they say... It's all relative!
  Oleg answered with a chuckle:
  "Einstein's theory of relativity hadn't been invented yet. And anyway, it's false, because a photon has rest mass. If a photon didn't have rest mass, it wouldn't have momentum. Which means light wouldn't be reflected from a mirror!"
  Paul squeaked:
  - I don"t understand, what are you talking about?
  The boy genius said:
  - Hit him in the face with a brick!
  After which, the children's squad, no more than twelve years old, picked up their pace. Fighting such a team, outnumbered tenfold, seemed like a gamble and a great deal of daring.
  Stella noted:
  "This war is like a fairy tale: the enemy is numerous but stupid. We're small but mighty, and we always win!"
  Paul chirped:
  But to be honest,
  I defeat everyone without exception!
  The child warriors joined in chorus:
  It can't be, it can't be...
  The boy sniper growled:
  - Oleg, tell me!
  Superman Boy supported:
  - Yes, absolutely!
  And the young warriors picked up the pace. Their battle strategy was quite simple: to pounce on the enemy and shoot them from a distance, while lying in ambush themselves.
  Paul noted:
  - We're like boxers - we hold our opponents with a long left jab! And we don't expose ourselves to attack!
  Oleg sang in response with a smile:
  We will boldly go into battle,
  For Holy Rus'...
  And we will shed tears for her,
  Young blood!
  The boy superman was indeed quite determined and tough. After all, the English, although a cultured nation, are no angels.
  Their muffled conversation can now be heard. An entire squadron-two hundred horsemen-is searching for something and needs to be fought before it runs into the camp housing the children and teenagers of the battalion of youngsters.
  Young warriors approach the squadron. Here , indeed, most of the soldiers are Arabs and blacks. And Britain deploys sixty thousand against four thousand Boers. A ratio of one to fifteen. Even in the event of a frontal attack, try to fight back like that. And the enemy will try to outflank.
  Paul whispered:
  "Shoot only on command and don't stick your head out." Then the boy asked Oleg, frowning.
  - Would you at least take a weapon, or how are you going to fight - crush the British with your bare hands and bare feet?
  The boy terminator nodded:
  - We can try this too! Let me put them to bed!
  Stella giggled and noted:
  - What? That would be funny!
  Paul noted:
  - Aren't you afraid of dying?
  Oleg chuckled and replied:
  - I'm under a spell! Don't worry about me!
  Edik tweeted:
  In this cry there is a thirst for a storm,
  The power of anger, the flame of passion...
  Why are you puffing up your biceps?
  Let's tear the villains' jaws apart!
  After which the boy warrior bursts out laughing! It looks extremely funny.
  And so their small detachment approached the squadron, within rifle range. It was obvious that the British had changed their colors to khaki. But that didn't make them any less noticeable.
  Oleg accelerated sharply. He had no weapon, but he expected to obtain one in battle. It looked like a barefoot boy, with a bare, very muscular torso, racing, as if in a time-lapse photograph. And he continued to accelerate, surpassing the speed of a cheetah. The English, Arab, and Black soldiers began firing. They opened fire automatically. And Oleg, accelerating sharply, smashed the lieutenant on his horse with his bare, childish heel, hitting him in the chin.
  The crushing blow knocked the English officer out, causing his jaw to fly off.
  Oleg leaped up and, with his bare, childish feet, strong as steel rods, knocked down two more Arabs on horseback. They barely managed to draw their sabers.
  The boy terminator seized the weapon. Judging by its gleam, it was a fine, honed blade. And the eternal child rushed forward to hack and slash at the cavalry of the lion's empire. In the confusion, the fighters of the small Boer detachment opened fire. A fierce gunfight ensued.
  Oleg chopped and beat the enemies with his bare, strong, lethal feet and sang:
  What should we do in Albion,
  Where are the frogs for lunch...
  They parted like prisoners in a prison zone,
  The neighbor gave a blow and died!
  It's true that the boy-terminator thought that it's actually the French who eat frogs for lunch, not the English!
  And Jean Grandier was, in fact, French. A nation whose emperor was Napoleon Bonaparte.
  Oleg chopped with his swords until heads rolled and chirped:
  I am a warrior, even though I am young,
  He fought for his homeland among the stars...
  Girls, I'll give you a bouquet,
  And the enemy cowered in fear!
  I'd like to continue the song, but the rhyme somehow slipped my mind. But the sharp sabers kept flashing. And the Englishmen's heads kept falling off like cabbages. And the immortal child's legs broke jaws and skulls. And it was absolutely wonderful.
  And the children were shooting, too. And very accurately. Paul was hitting his marks, but his lethal rifle was slower than the Mausers. The British tried to shoot back, but it was a chaotic affair. And the losses kept mounting.
  Oleg said something that was not quite to the point:
  It's not easy to be kind,
  Kindness does not depend on height...
  To win the battle,
  As strange as it may be, you have to be kind!
  And the boy-terminator, dodging a burst of machine-gun fire, leaped up. He slashed with his sabers, cutting down some and lopping off others' heads, after which he chirped:
  I'm the coolest boy,
  Rublyu certainly looks beautiful...
  I'll break your jaw with my foot,
  The color of our team!
  And Oleg picked up a machine gun and started firing at the English, Arab, and Black horsemen. And it was very deadly. So many people fell in piles under the machine gun fire.
  The boy-terminator sang:
  The gunner loaded the belt boldly,
  And Maxim strikes like lightning...
  A boy in shorts is scribbling a machine gunner,
  And the machine gun obeys him!
  CHAPTER No 4.
  On the one hand, killing people is wrong. But the British are no angels either. They captured a boy named Serge, only eleven years old. And the child was ordered to be promptly interrogated.
  How could this be done so quickly? A boy in shorts, his hands bound behind his back, was led into the interrogation room. The child was already in pain, as two tall Arabs had bound his arms elbow to elbow from behind. The boy's shoulders were dislocated, and his ligaments were in severe pain. They even deliberately walked the child's bare feet through the nettles, adding to the suffering.
  And now the boy's soles and feet were already covered with blisters from the nettles.
  And now a torture chamber awaited Serge, where the smell of burnt meat already wafted from the entrance.
  The boy was terrified, but he clenched his teeth tighter to keep them from chattering. And then they led him into the room itself. Groans were audible. A naked girl hung on the rack. She was covered in whiplash. A brazier blazed beneath the beauty's bare feet. And her bare ankles were clamped in an oak, iron-bound stock. So the girl simultaneously suffered from the fire roasting her bare soles, from the stretching on the rack, and from the whip with which the executioner lashed her.
  A mixture of blood and sweat dripped from the girl's back and sides.
  Executioners in red robes and aprons, their hands in gloves. These are real monsters.
  So, during the torture, a doctor and two nurses in white coats are present.
  The boy's bandages were untied, and his torn T-shirt and shorts were ripped off. Afterward, the doctor took his pulse, and the nurse listened to his lungs.
  The doctor drew a health coefficient on the board.
  Serge felt intense shame standing naked in front of the women. The nurse also used a spoon to examine his mouth. It was both a search and a medical examination.
  The doctors gave the go-ahead for torture. A pair of scribes with ink pens prepared to record the testimony.
  Serge was seized by the executioners and dragged in a special chair, which was studded with steel spikes.
  The boy desperately struggled, but to no avail. What could a child possibly do against large, smelly adults?
  They screwed him in, and the sharp spikes dug into his bare, childish back. They also secured the boy's head and neck. Then they attached his arms and legs to clamps.
  The chief interrogator asked:
  - Well, go on talking!
  With a voice trembling with fear, the child gurgled:
  - No! I won't tell!
  The boy's bare feet were then bent at unnatural angles. And it was truly very painful. The child's bones crunched. The child's body was covered in sweat, and on his back, neck, and buttocks, the spikes pierced the skin and blood dripped. It truly was a sophisticated form of English torture. Serge, however, endured it. Like a little partisan, he moaned with pale lips and a trembling voice:
  - Ah! I won't tell! Ugh! I won't tell!
  And his bare little children's feet twisted him, with the intention, however, of causing pain, but not injuring him.
  Then they drove tiles into the child's bare sole, so as to cover the child's foot evenly, with its indentations. This, too, was a sophisticated form of torture. The current was turned on , and the tiles began to heat up. The child's bare feet began to burn. And they grew hotter and hotter, and the pain intensified.
  The smell of scorched, childish feet filled the air. The boy was in unbearable pain, but groaned as he said:
  - No! I won't tell! Oh, I won't tell!
  And they continued to burn the child's heels. But they couldn't get the information out.
  Then the British decided to attach electrodes to the steel chair itself and turn on the current. At first, the voltage was low. The boy felt a slight tingling sensation. Then the current increased, and the child began to burn. And that was much more painful.
  The woman in the white coat reached up and turned another switch. The boy began shaking violently. His thick, light hair stood on end.
  The chief investigator roared:
  - Speak, boy, or we will torture you to death!
  The child groaned, bloody drool coming out of his mouth:
  - I still won't tell! I won't tell!
  followed . And the woman in the white coat turned the switch again. The discharge intensified, the child began to shake even more, and even the skin began to smoke.
  But the boy, Serge, was babbling something inaudible, impossible to understand. But it was clear he was determined not to say anything.
  The doctor in the white coat noted:
  - Take it easy, the child might stop breathing!
  The nurse turned the switch. The discharges weakened. The smoke stopped.
  The boy was breathing very heavily. The chief torturer remarked:
  "We've only just started, puppy. We'll give you a little rest and some time to heal your wounds, and then the rack and pincers await you."
  Serge groaned and said:
  - No! I won't tell!
  One of the executioners hit the boy on the stomach with a whip, so hard that the skin burst and blood flowed.
  The boy jerked and fell silent, his baby head fell to the side and his face turned pale.
  The doctor in a white coat warned:
  - So you'll send him to the next world. The child needs a break.
  After which the torturers, together with two girls in white coats, began to free the unfortunate, exhausted boy from his shackles.
  After which the child, whose back was covered in bloody wounds, whose feet were burnt, and whose nerve endings were being shocked, was placed on a stretcher and carried away.
  And in his place, they were already seating another beautiful girl in the chair, from whom they had torn off all her clothes, leaving her completely naked.
  And the torture continued with a new victim.
  Once again, the nurses listened to the girl, and the doctor felt her pulse - to torture her scientifically.
  This was the kind of enemy the Boers faced. That's why they fought so fiercely, without hesitation or doubt.
  Now the boy warriors and the girl fighter Stella were firing accurately. And they shot so accurately that the English cavalrymen didn't stand a chance.
  At the same time, the eternal boy Oleg Rybachenko beat up Arabs, blacks, and the English with his hands and feet, and also chopped off heads with swords, and everything turned out very smoothly and cheerfully.
  The child warriors slaughtered the entire squadron, leaving no survivors. When only a dozen Englishmen remained, they began to flee. But Oleg caught up with them and kicked them in the back of the head with his bare heel. And the enemy was truly knocked out.
  The boy fighter took it and sang:
  You won't go anywhere from me,
  You are certainly cool fighters...
  And believe me, you will sing from the pain,
  That's why the boys are great!
  And the young warrior fought and caught up with his enemies with fury. And he beat them on the heads, temples, and solar plexuses with his bare, childish feet.
  The children became so excited that they killed all two hundred soldiers of the English squadron. They left no one for interrogation or to learn the British command's future plans.
  Paul noted with a sigh:
  - We clearly overdid it! We literally killed everyone!
  Oleg jokingly sang:
  We, the children of war, were burning very hard,
  And five thousand five hundred Englishmen fell!
  After which the war child laughed. And the child warriors began to pick pockets and collect the loot. The squadron had some loot stolen from the locals. Besides, the soldiers, and especially the officers, had some cash in their pockets. Which was great. And the young warriors scooped it all up, down to the last kopeck, or penny.
  After which they took all the money and piled it all up. Besides the cash, there was also some jewelry, and even a few gold teeth extracted by the looters.
  Paul nodded with a smile:
  - Half of the spoils will go to the republic's treasury, and we'll divide the other half among the entire battalion!
  Oleg nodded with a smile, so innocent and childish:
  - It will be fair!
  Boy Edik noticed:
  - We've always done it this way! Every effort must be rewarded!
  Afterwards, the children dismounted their steeds to stretch their legs. They then set off on foot to the camp. Walking barefoot was pleasant. The grass tickled the bare feet of the boys and one girl.
  Oleg felt inspired and began to sing:
  We are the children of Africa now,
  Although we are proud of our white skin...
  We will show our highest class in battle,
  And we'll punch the demon in the face.
  
  Although we are still small in stature,
  But every warrior from the cradle...
  Children really know how to be eagles,
  The wolf cub is not a lamb at all!
  
  We can outrun a hare,
  Flashing bare heels...
  Pass the exam with an A,
  In his boyish element!
  
  Why are we attracted to Africa?
  There is a scent of rebellious will in it...
  The victories opened a stormy account,
  That endless share of ours!
  
  Capable of bringing down an elephant,
  And fight a lion on sticks...
  After all, children have a lot of intelligence,
  The faces of the young people shine brightly!
  
  We shoot like Robin Hood,
  Something the English are clearly sick of...
  Let the Fuhrer be kaput,
  It won't be difficult for us to finish him off!
  
  We will cause such a rout,
  That the British lion will tremble...
  After all, it"s a historical defeat,
  Empires of the solid sun!
  
  In Russia the wise man rules,
  His name is glorious Nicholas...
  Glorify him in poems,
  So that the evil Cain does not rise!
  
  He will lead Rus' to victory,
  And he will defeat the evil Japanese...
  Will make a menacing turn,
  We have drunk the cup to the bottom!
  
  War is certainly hard,
  Rivers of blood flow like streams...
  But we'll wind the oar here,
  In the name of African will!
  
  The Boer is also a white man,
  And it's awkward to kill your own...
  That's just the way the century turned out to be,
  All like an evil tattoo!
  
  Streams of blood flow, know,
  The torch of the abyss blazes with fire...
  But there will be paradise on the planet,
  The Lord will exclaim: people, enough!
  
  We will give for our Motherland,
  And the soul and the boy's heart...
  A cherub hovers above us,
  He opens the door to happiness!
  
  A fierce fire is raging,
  Over our mother Fatherland...
  We will strike the enemy,
  And we will live under communism!
  
  For the Lord went to the cross,
  For the planet to prosper...
  And then Jesus was resurrected,
  The light shone brightly!
  
  All people will have a glorious paradise,
  In which there are bright tulips...
  So, boy, go for it,
  Don't lean on the glasses!
  
  To the glory of the Motherland, a star,
  It's like a torch is shining above us...
  We are with Jesus forever,
  All children in Eden forever!
  
  It's beautiful to run barefoot,
  A boy sliding down a snowdrift...
  And if you need to use your fist,
  He will strike at the one who is proud!
  
  Each of the nurseries is a warrior,
  He gives his soul to the Fatherland...
  You beat the enemy hard,
  And do not regret the truth of life!
  
  The grave of the infidel awaits,
  What attacks Holy Rus'...
  We'll settle the score for him,
  Let the enemy not get fat!
  
  The dragon bared his fangs,
  And it shoots out jets of fire...
  In battle, the days are not easy,
  When the enemy attacks!
  
  The troops are going on the attack here,
  Of course we exterminate them...
  Let the spy be kaput here,
  So that Cain doesn"t interfere with Kyiv!
  
  We will revive our Rus',
  We know how to fight bravely...
  A people with a dream cannot be defeated,
  Don't scare the boys!
  
  When the thunderstorms die down,
  The planet will become truly united...
  Our small detachment will pass by,
  In the hearts of children, love is kept!
  
  And the boys' bare feet,
  They'll leave dewdrops on the grass...
  There are plenty of boys and girls,
  What do the mountains and valleys know!
  
  I always want to be a boy,
  It's fun to live and not grow up...
  To swim in the sea in just swimming trunks,
  I will defeat the shark in battle!
  
  And fly into space correctly,
  To Mars, Venus and Mercury...
  In the constellation where the big bear is,
  And Sirus has its own peculium!
  
  When the universe is ours,
  Happy children underfoot...
  Everything will be just top notch,
  With baked goods, honey and pies!
  
  We will be forever in that paradise,
  Which we will build ourselves, believe me...
  I love Svarog and Christ,
  Let's feast together with the Gods!
  
  There are no limits to happiness,
  Let it be children forever...
  Grace to all in the universe,
  Just don't be careless!
  
  For our Land and borders,
  Let's build a light of defense...
  And there will be a furious revelry,
  And I know the groans will stop!
  
  And evil will disappear forever,
  And it will only be entertainment...
  May people's dreams come true,
  Hearts filled with forgiveness!
  
  My girl is like a flower,
  Burning in the garden of the Lord...
  And a look like a pure breeze,
  Will dispel the flames of hell!
  
  In love who lasts without end,
  We will be in happiness without boundaries...
  In the Name of the Family and the Father,
  It's time to be proud of your destiny!
  
  The radiant light of the Universe,
  Check it out, it spilled over my Rus'...
  And the feat of the knights is sung,
  And the Fuhrer with a bald head failed!
  
  Now the planet is like a crystal,
  Shines with joy and light...
  Svarog is our new ideal,
  With your radiant light of Rod!
  Oleg Rybachenko sang with such feeling and expression. And the other children joined in. And it was truly wonderful.
  After which they shot another local zebra and returned to camp.
  Paul noted:
  - Minus two hundred Englishmen. That's great, you might say! But minus a thousand is even better!
  Oleg noted:
  - There are more Arabs there than Englishmen. They are using colonial troops here!
  The boy sniper nodded:
  - True! But an enemy is an enemy, regardless of nationality. And just because they're Arabs doesn't make them our friends!
  From Tella added:
  - Like black people too!
  Oleg logically noted:
  - In Transylvania and the Orange Free State, the black population is five times larger than the white population!
  Paul muttered:
  - So what?
  The boy genius logically noted:
  - These are the ones we need to take into our army! We need to give equal rights to blacks and whites!
  The boy sniper laughed and replied:
  - No! Blacks are too cowardly to be warriors! In fact, only the white man is a natural-born warrior!
  Oleg responded by saying:
  Anyone who is a man is born a warrior,
  We all descended from apes...
  It doesn't matter white, black, what matters is the legion,
  That we might seek military glory!
  Stella noted:
  - There are also some good black warriors, for example the Zulus, they have very aggressive tribes.
  Paul muttered with a grin:
  - We'll win anyway! And we'll show everyone Kuzma's mother!
  It was getting dark, the sun had already set. The children had scattered to their hammocks. Oleg, too, had decided to get some sleep.
  There were a dozen boys in one room, and they started snoring. Children don't usually snore and fall asleep without difficulty.
  Before going to bed, they read a short prayer and took a shower.
  Oleg had very defined muscles, and it was very noticeable. He was like a teenage Hercules.
  One of the boys noted:
  - What muscles! Let 's call him Samson!
  Oleg noted:
  - Unlike Samson, I don't have braids! Maybe Hercules would be better!
  The boy from Russia Vanka nodded:
  - Yes, Samson is the Jews' name! Ilya Muromets is better!
  Another Boer boy objected:
  - Few of us know your Ilya! It really would be better to call him Hercules!
  The boys made some noise, splashed around in the warm water and decided that it would be best to name it after the Greek hero, who is a symbol of strength.
  After washing, the children dried themselves with towels and went off to their hammocks. They had rooms for a dozen, and the children were usually grouped according to age.
  Oleg spun around in the hammock, which was great. But sleep wouldn't come; the immortal boy hardly ever tired, and his need for sleep was far less than that of ordinary people.
  Then Oleg, in order to quickly fall asleep, decided to strain his imagination a little.
  For example, in 1943, when the Nazis were already looking for a way to avoid a two-front war, the Allies, and Churchill in particular, proposed the following to the Führer: He would stop exterminating the Jews, and in exchange, the Allies would declare an armistice, begin negotiations, and cease hostilities.
  And Hitler was wise enough to agree. Germany was indeed short of manpower and equipment. Since the bombing of the Third Reich had ceased, weapons production, thanks to the declared total mobilization, increased at a faster rate. The latest Tigers and Panthers were arriving at the front in large numbers. And the Führer ordered the new ME-309 fighter to be put into production. This aircraft boasted very powerful armament-three 30mm cannons and four machine guns. And it had a top speed of 740 kilometers per hour, quite high for the time. But this aircraft only entered production in the summer of 1943.
  Furthermore , the Führer wanted to test the Maus, which was undergoing production testing, and the Lev tank in combat. The Germans also wanted to put the Ju-288, a bomber that could carry four tons of bombs under normal load and six tons under overload, into production.
  And the Focke-Wulf is a formidable aircraft in its series. The latest model could be armed with six cannons. And thanks to its thick armor, it could also be used as both a ground attack aircraft and a frontline bomber.
  Besides it, there were also X-129 attack aircraft, which were now being produced in large quantities, and much more.
  The Ferdinand has also already been produced-eighty-nine units so far. It's the most powerful self-propelled gun. It has a powerful 88-millimeter 71 EL gun, two hundred millimeters of frontal armor, and eighty-five millimeters of side armor. Just try to penetrate those.
  But the Führer wavered in Operation Citadel. At the last moment, the offensive was postponed again. The Allies and the Third Reich agreed to a prisoner exchange. Thus, significant forces, including pilots, were to arrive in Germany. Significant forces were also arriving in Italy.
  Plus, the Maus had passed testing, showing satisfactory results and the vehicle's readiness for combat. And the Führer wanted to test them at the front. At the same time, work on the Lion tank and the Tiger II was being completed. So, Operation Citadel never began in July. And on August 1, Stalin himself went on the offensive. Or rather, he gave the order for the Red Army to advance.
  Attacks were launched on both the Oryol and Kharkov fronts. Fierce fighting ensued. The Germans had generally anticipated this and had dug numerous fortifications. Additional forces were also brought in, both from Africa and from Italy and Europe. Here, the Germans were able to transfer troops from Greece and the Balkans. Although Bulgaria didn't fight, it abandoned its troops in Yugoslavia, Greece, and Albania, freeing up German units. Italy did the same in France and Norway.
  Thus, the Germans had more forces at the Kursk Bulge than in real history.
  The number of anti-aircraft guns increased especially, as there was no war in the West, and the number of guns from the Atlantic Wall and the Siedrich Line increased.
  So the Germans' defense was echeloned and quite powerful.
  Moreover, the Panther proved to be a far more effective tank in defense than in attack. Its long-barreled, rapid-fire gun was excellent from cover and ambushes, and its frontal armor was strong. Both the Tiger and Ferdinand performed admirably in defensive battles.
  In short, the Soviet troops were only able to penetrate the German defensive line at the cost of enormous losses, and were stopped.
  The fighting dragged on until late autumn. The monsters finally appeared on the front: the sixty-seven-ton Tiger II, the ninety-ton Lion, and the one-hundred-eighty-ton Maus.
  But the German behemoths didn't live up to their promise. The Maus in particular was too heavy, creating problems during transport, unloading, and combat. And in the autumn, it looked like a coffin in the mud. The Lion also suffered similar problems. Only the Tiger II, although also a problematic vehicle, saw limited combat use.
  The Jagdpanther self-propelled gun performed somewhat better. This vehicle had decent armor, especially in the front, good armament, and relatively good performance, comparable to the Panther.
  The front line became stagnant. Soviet troops were unable to break through the Nazi defenses in the center. The situation turned out to be very similar to World War I. The Germans remained on the defensive and did not attack.
  Winter had arrived. And the USSR faced a dilemma: to attack or to accumulate strength. Stalin chose the offensive.
  Overall, the choice was clear: the Germans fight worse in winter, and the Russians better. But this time, the Fritzes were prepared to spend the winter. And there were no more severe plagues, which made the defense easier.
  Unlike in real history, the Germans began producing the Jagdpanther in large quantities, which was a good defensive tank and relatively easy to manufacture. And this is certainly a strong move. Considering that the Jagdpanther, based on the Panther chassis, began being produced in real history as early as June 1943, if more attention had been paid to it, the war might have been longer.
  The Red Army advanced in southern Ukraine but made little progress. They also failed to break the Nazis' strong defenses near Leningrad. The worst part was that the Red Army lacked air superiority-all its air power was in the east, and its attack aircraft and frontline bombers were less effective. Furthermore, the Nazis were no less technologically advanced, and they had plenty of alloying elements.
  Plus, Western countries stopped supplying goods under Lend-Lease, and now everything had to be purchased with gold. And this affected the course of the war.
  And the Allies sold oil to Germany, and now the Wehrmacht had no problems with fuel.
  So, the offensive in December in southern Ukraine, in January near Leningrad, and in February in the center, as well as in March in northern Ukraine, was unsuccessful. The Nazis continued to hold the front.
  Hitler now faced a dilemma: attack or accumulate forces? Hermann Göring proposed an air offensive as an alternative, relying on the latest jet aircraft, cruise missiles, and ballistic missiles. However, the latter were too expensive and difficult to produce. Instead, it was decided to rely on jet bombers.
  It is very difficult to hit them with air defense and fighters cannot catch up.
  A better-protected version of the Tiger-2 and the Panther-2 also entered production. The latter was quite good. It had an 88-millimeter, 71-caliber gun, weighed fifty-three tons, and had a nine-hundred-horsepower engine. The frontal hull was one hundred millimeters thick with a forty-five-degree slope, the sides were sixty millimeters thick, and the turret front was one hundred and fifty millimeters thick.
  Even the appearance of the more powerful T-34-85 in the USSR, instead of the T-34-76, could not give this machine an advantage.
  The first major tank battle took place in May. On one side were the T-34-85s, on the other the Panther-2.
  Here's Gerda's crew, riding this tank. The girls are cheerful and confident. The German gun is very powerful and can penetrate a Soviet tank at a range of three and a half kilometers. Now that's real power.
  And Gerda shoots with her bare toes and hits a Soviet T-34... it burns.
  And the blonde girl roars:
  - I am a great beauty and simply super!
  Then Charlotte fires. And very deftly, she knocks out, or rather destroys, the Soviet self-propelled gun, so much so that the shells explode and detonate. And the red-haired warrior roars:
  You won't find a more beautiful girl,
  Go around our entire kingdom!
  And even if you find it,
  You'll be lost for pfening!
  Kristina, the girl, also fires her gun. She penetrates an IS-2 from a distance. This vehicle can be dangerous, with a powerful 122mm gun. However, the turret's frontal thickness is only 100mm and lacks proper slope. And the German gun can take it out from a distance.
  Christina shoots with her bare toes and chirps:
  - I can kill everyone! And Stalin is finished!
  Next in line is Magda, a very beautiful, honey-haired blonde. She hits a Soviet vehicle-in this case, a self-propelled gun (SP-152), a very dangerous one. And capable of causing harm. Although not very accurate. But the Terminator girl, using her bare toes, hits without missing.
  The girl chirps:
  To Stalin the tormentor
  Let's hit you right in the eye...
  We will be rulers,
  The hour of the Reich will come!
  The girls actually rode a very decent tank-the Panther-2. It handles well and is quite nimble. And its gun, in terms of its overall performance, is unmatched.
  Albina is a pilot. She's very beautiful, and wears only thin panties. And she flies an ME-309, a heavily armed aircraft. She became a nightmare for Soviet pilots.
  The situation is further exacerbated by the fact that aluminum, copper, and other elements can only be purchased from the US and Britain with gold. The same goes for aviation gasoline and kerosene, which are also in short supply. This makes things easier for the enemy, while the USSR is heavier. Soviet aircraft weigh far more than they should, which means they are inferior in both speed and maneuverability.
  Albina shoots, shooting down Red Army planes. And all the while singing:
  The hymn sings in our souls,
  We are advancing to the east!
  Stalin, you'll get punched in the face,
  Germans are a proud people!
  Alvina, another Terminator pilot, also lays down heavy fire and fires her aircraft cannons. She does it all quite skillfully. And the downed Red Army planes burn and fall apart.
  The terminator girl roars:
  He will heal everyone, heal everyone,
  The girl writes with fire!
  That's how the women wrote...
  Oleg didn't even notice how he fell asleep. The battle scene was quite vivid and captivating. And the boy's sleep was deep and vibrant, like a kaleidoscope.
  CHAPTER No 5.
  Oleg Rybachenko, in his unique and unrepeatable dream, found himself in the world when war broke out between the Taliban and the Russian Federation. Taking advantage of the fact that the main Russian forces were bogged down in the battle in Ukraine, the Taliban attacked Tajikistan. And a serious battle erupted. A million mujahideen literally broke through Rahmon's army's defenses like lava in a volcanic eruption and stormed into the Fergana Valley.
  Moreover, they managed to destroy the Russian base in Tajikistan. And guess what-a second front opened in the south. Russia finally, belatedly, declared mobilization and began redeploying troops across several borders.
  And the Russian T-90 tanks went on the counterattack.
  Oleg Rybachenko, a boy of about twelve and five feet tall, wearing a cap, charged with great fury. His bare, tanned, muscular legs flashed.
  And the boy took on the task of beating up those dreadful dushmans. Now that's a real fighter.
  But on the Russian side, fighting are very barefoot and beautiful girls in bikinis. The battles come in waves.
  Elizabeth fires at the mujahideen. She uses a high-powered dragon-type machine gun and rains bullets down on the Taliban.
  And they fall, pressing on the girl. A Russian helicopter, shot down by a homemade anti-aircraft gun, falls. It was shot down by the Taliban. True, there are men on the helicopter, not girls, and I don't feel particularly sorry for them.
  And Elizabeth, the girl is barefoot and in a bikini. And when you're practically naked, there's no one to hold you back or stop you.
  The war in the south, however, drags on. Summer is already over. And then comes autumn - damp and rainy. Afghanistan has a large population, after all, plus Muslim volunteers are arriving from all over the Islamic world. And now winter has truly arrived, and the war still rages. Elizabeth, with her bare toes, tossed the gift of annihilation with the lethal force of her chiseled feet. She scattered the Taliban in all directions and sang, baring her pearly teeth:
  Here comes winter, winter, winter,
  It started suddenly...
  It sweeps furiously, it sweeps -
  It will be better tomorrow,
  Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow!
  And today is a new year!
  Indeed, it snowed in Tajikistan on New Year's Eve 2025. And now Russian girls are leaving their barefoot, precise footprints in the snow, and it looks very beautiful.
  Zoya took it and sang:
  One, two, three -
  Wipe the processors!
  Four, eight, five,
  Let's go play lapta!
  And the girl, with her bare toes, launches a deadly gift of death.
  Catherine took it and began to sing, baring her teeth:
  One, two, three, four, five,
  The bunny went out for a walk...
  Here comes a girl running out,
  Mujahideen is killed!
  And Elena is also leading the fire. A girl like no other, tougher than she is. And she scribbles with deadly aplomb. She mows down mujahideen without further ado. After which, she begins to sing;
  If the rear is worthless -
  Military fervor won't help...
  Well, if there is no passion,
  The rear will be the enemy's lunch!
  And red-haired Elena will just throw the gift of annihilation with her bare toes. And she'll literally tear apart so many enemies it's simply terrifying.
  Elena, of course, did not miss the opportunity to sing:
  I've been naked before,
  She was jumping around the field like that!
  She was jumping around the field like that...
  Kulaksky sang along!
  And the girl will take it and her eyes that sparkle like sapphires, they will just sparkle. And her eyes are beautiful. And her tongue is quite playful. And so nimble, and so lively. Well, just like some kind of juicy orange.
  Euphrosyne also fights. And with her bare toes she throws gifts of annihilation. Those that are so deadly and destructive.
  And nearby, the Taliban took over and knocked out a Russian tank. The Russian army's vehicle began to tear apart, its ammunition detonating. And again, men were killed.
  But Efrosinya doesn't need men. They need to be tortured. And so the girl sang:
  Men, men, men,
  You are just big bastards,
  When the girls kill you,
  They cleanse the earth so well!
  Indeed, the Taliban are beasts.
  They once captured a beautiful female scout. Well, first of all, they took her and hoisted her on the rack. They dislocated the joints of her arms, which was very painful.
  Then they placed stocks on the girl's bare feet, shackling her ankles. And then they lit a fire under her bare, gracefully curved soles.
  The Russian girl was in extreme pain. Before frying her heels, the Taliban smeared them with oil. So, the soles of her feet burned slowly, and it was excruciatingly painful. The girl moaned and cried. Meanwhile, the Taliban beat her back and sides with a whip. Then they decided to intensify the torture. They took out a red-hot wire and began to beat the beauty on her back and chest.
  And how painful it was. Especially when the Taliban started twisting the Russian girl's scarlet nipples with hot pliers. And she cried so much.
  And the Taliban's top commander was simply thrilled by the torture, baring his gold teeth.
  The Russian girl spat in response. After that, they started breaking her bare toes. It was incredibly painful. The girl passed out from the terrible, unbearable pain.
  But the Taliban continued to torture her. First, they brought the girl to her senses with a bucket of ice water. Then they placed sensors and electrodes on her body.
  After which, two boys began to pedal the dynamo. Electricity flowed, and the girl twitched in excruciating pain. And indeed, when it hit her body
  If electric shocks pass through, it's eerie, like herds of horses rushing past. And really, any girl would howl at this.
  And the boys are pedaling, and the naked girl is howling like a wild wolf. And it's really painful for her.
  Besides the electric shock, the Taliban also fry the Russian girl's heels, which are already covered in large blisters. They also beat her on the back with a hot wire. And they beat her with fury and force.
  And they intensified the torture even further. They began stretching the girl and hanging more and more weights on the block, trying to completely dislocate her joints.
  The Taliban's top bandit sang:
  What pain, what pain,
  The score of the match will be: five to zero!
  Well, what can you expect from savages? They tortured the girl very cruelly, but not particularly sophisticatedly.
  The Taliban are barbarians. They used drug money to buy an entire armada of tanks from China. Indeed, China is Russia's closest ally and friend.
  And the Taliban advanced on the enemy with their tanks.
  And here they are, facing four Russian mutant girls, this time on the latest T-95. They are, of course, barefoot and in bikinis.
  So what?
  Elizabeth fired at the mujahideen with her bare toes and chirped:
  - Glory to the Motherland of Elephants!
  Ekaterina also hit the Taliban with her bare, round heel and asked:
  - What is the homeland of elephants?
  Elizabeth, baring her teeth, replied:
  - Of course, Russia!
  Catherine giggled and replied:
  - And I thought it was India!
  Elena hit the dushmans with her scarlet nipple, having first taken off her bra, and squealed:
  - And I thought Africa was the homeland of elephants!
  Euphrosyne pressed her bare, round heels on the pedals and sang:
  - Little children,
  Not for the world...
  Don't go to Africa for a walk...
  In Africa there are sharks, in Africa there are gorillas,
  There are big crocodiles in Africa!
  And the whole four barefoot girls began to sing:
  They will bite you,
  To beat and offend....
  Children, don't go for a walk in Africa!
  In Africa there is a robber,
  In Africa there is a villain,
  There's a terrible Barmaley in Africa!
  It will bite you,
  To beat and to offend...
  Children, don't go to Africa for a walk,
  In Africa it's a nightmare,
  Mad villain,
  Suddenly Barmaley appeared in it!
  He runs around Africa and eats children!
  Yes, children! Yes, children!
  It's all well and good, but when the Taliban captured a Russian boy of about fourteen, they took him seriously. First, they stripped him and hoisted him on the rack.
  Then the dushman, wearing a turban and with a beard, began to burn the naked, muscular body of the teenager with a rod with a hot iron.
  Then the Taliban executioner brought a star made of hot iron to the boy"s bare chest and pressed it against it.
  The boy screamed in terrible pain and lost consciousness. Afterward, they brought him to his senses. They clamped his bare, still almost childish feet into a stock. They began hanging weights on hooks in the stock. It was incredibly painful. The boy's young body was stretched to the limit, and he literally groaned in pain.
  They continued to torture the Russian boy. They smeared his bare feet with oil. Then they lit a fire underneath them.
  And how the boy screamed wildly after that. Yes, it was extremely painful.
  The boy continued to scream and was beaten with a whip by the Taliban.
  Then they grabbed the boy's ribs with hooks and wrenched him around again.
  After which, the Taliban began to sing:
  We will destroy all the infidels,
  Let them be teenagers...
  There is a cherub above us,
  We'll drive everyone into the boards!
  Afterwards, they broke all the toes on the Russian boy's bare feet with red-hot pliers. The Taliban did this slowly, to inflict as much pain as possible on the handsome boy. Then they began breaking the young warrior's ribs with white-hot pliers.
  They broke them so badly that not a single rib remained intact. The boy died of shock and pain.
  Meanwhile, Anastasia, the Witcher, was attacking the Taliban from a stormtrooper, using rockets. She pressed the joystick buttons with her bare toes and chanted:
  Higher and higher and higher,
  The Fuhrer turned up his nose...
  Sometimes our roofs are blown away,
  However, the Taliban has not matured enough!
  Akulina Orlova also strikes the enemy. She does it with great precision, using her scarlet nipple to press the button. And nearby, a Russian attack aircraft explodes. It was hit by a lethal gift from the Taliban. Perhaps something made in China. And it's going to hit hard.
  Akulina sang:
  - If it's a man, go straight to the coffin,
  Saving lives so that...
  Be barefoot, girls!
  And the warrior just bursts out laughing. The girl's feet, of course, despite the winter, are barefoot. And her heels are round and literally sparkling. This girl is simply superb.
  And her nipples are scarlet, and sparkle like the tops of churches. Now that's a feisty girl, so to speak.
  Yes, she doesn't like men. Although she happily uses them for pleasure. So that it will be wonderful.
  Akulina took it and sang:
  About this barefoot girl,
  I couldn"t forget it...
  It seemed like the paving stones,
  They torment the skin of tender feet!
  And Akulina just takes it and turns her sapphire eyes.
  Here she is, a girl of the highest level and class.
  And Margarita Magnitnaya is also a pilot.
  Well, in the meantime, Margarita is pounding the mujahideen with great, lethal force.
  After which he will sing:
  Oh, what legs,
  How good...
  Don't be afraid, baby,
  Write down the phone number!
  And Margarita will just stick her tongue out. She's an extremely feisty girl.
  And her bare toes send out murderous gifts of death.
  Akulina Orlova sang with a laugh:
  - Margarita, the window is open,
  Margarita, you remember how it all happened!
  Anastasia Vedmakova nodded:
  - Yes, women! We can do anything, and we'll completely wipe out our enemies!
  And the girls sang in chorus:
  Our army is strong,
  She protects the world...
  Let the Taliban advance,
  Their girls are killing them!
  For example, Fedora fights too. She fires a mortar at the mujahideen. And if she hits someone, it'll be a real pain in the ass. Even if the Taliban has a long beard and a shaved head.
  Fedora stomps her bare feet in the mud and sings:
  Do you see an eclipse in the sky?
  A menacing symbol of the surf...
  Black wings over the world,
  Flocks of cosmic howl!
  And another girl, Serafima, threw a deadly bomb with her bare toes, tore apart a mass of Taliban and said:
  Taliban - the curse rises,
  Taliban - total death...
  Taliban and the dead regiments!
  The Taliban are crazy!
  Taliban!
  And Serafima will take a whistle in her mouth and blow so loudly that the crows will faint and pierce the heads of the mujahideen with their beaks.
  The girls, I must say, are so great and beautiful.
  And now we see the Taliban setting fire to a Russian ammunition depot. It began to burn, and the shells exploded with deadly force. The Taliban roared and rejoiced.
  And here are the girls from the sky, hitting the mujahideen. And you can see Albina and Alvina appear in the sky.
  Both girls are simply stunning blondes. And amazingly beautiful. And, of course, barefoot, and wearing only thin panties.
  These women are, let's say, of the highest order. And what they're capable of, not everyone can replicate.
  And the warriors, indeed, if they start killing, you won"t stop them.
  Albina fired a missile of colossal destructive power from a plane. It destroyed a Taliban bunker, after which she sang:
  - I am the strongest in the world,
  Even though the legs are bare, the nipples are naked...
  Let's flush the Taliban down the toilet,
  It is not in our interests to be weak!
  Alvina, still sending gifts of death with her bare toes and killing mujahideen, sang:
  - We have some pretty girls,
  They are simply, let's say, beautiful...
  The ringing voice of the Komsomol members,
  A stormy spring is coming!
  And both girls suddenly start singing at the top of their lungs:
  Let me go to the Himalayas,
  Let me go forever,
  Otherwise I will howl, or else I will bark,
  Or else I'll eat someone!
  And the girl just starts crowing. And she thinks it's really cool and adorable. But when you yell "Cock-a-doodle-doo"-it's truly terrifying.
  The girls, meanwhile, have started firing heavy weapons, which is impressive. And they're firing so accurately.
  The girl Viola sang, baring her teeth and shooting accurately at the enemies:
  - I am the strongest girl in the world,
  I love kissing men...
  The soldiers don't know the cool air,
  Where did the girl forget to dance a little!
  And the warrior will laugh. Yes, beauties know how to strangle the enemy.
  And to be honest, they are capable of breaking off the horns of even the bald devil.
  So try to go up against such beauties.
  Nicoletta also takes aim at the Taliban. She's a very combative and aggressive girl. And when she laughs, it seems like the laughter of a madwoman.
  Nicoletta bares her teeth and roars:
  We are, wow, robbers,
  Robbers, robbers!
  Bang, bang, and you're dead,
  Dead, dead!
  Nicoletta laughed and chirped:
  - Glory to the space pirates!
  Girls elsewhere were also going wild. And then rockets rained down on Taliban positions. Aurora released them with the help of her scarlet nipples, which she used to press buttons.
  And the rockets flew. And the mujahideen roared.
  Here's another Komsomol member being tortured. Without hesitation, they inserted cotton wool dipped in gasoline between her bare toes. And without further ado, they took her and set her on fire.
  The cotton wool caught fire. And the girl burst into tears. And then they shoved a red-hot rod into her breast, right into her scarlet nipple. And the girl literally went wild with pain.
  And the Taliban laugh. Of course, they love to break toes too. One of the mujahideen even went so far as to cauterize a girl's bare, round heel with a white-hot iron. And it worked. The girl screamed in pure terror.
  Alice saw it through the sniper scope. She looked more closely. She adjusted the scope, and let loose. A lethal bullet, hitting the executioner right in the stomach. He screamed in savage pain and began writhing. And the girl began singing:
  Angels of goodness,
  Two white wings over the world,
  Somewhere there is a country,
  Where Svarog himself became an idol!
  Angelica fired too, and very accurately, hitting the torturer in the scrotum. He, too, screamed at the accurate hit. That's how the executioners got it.
  And the girls began to sing:
  You stupid executioners,
  A cruel punishment awaits...
  We have a lot of candles,
  The great nation is attacking!
  And the girls started shooting furiously and accurately. And knocking out the Taliban. Even the devil wouldn't have been able to stand up to girls like that.
  Alice sings while firing at the enemy:
  Your fate hangs in the balance,
  The enemies are full of courage...
  But, thank God, there are friends,
  But, thank God, there are friends!
  And, thank God, friends have swords!
  And Angelica, continuing to fire at the Taliban and killing them, chirped:
  - When your friend is covered in blood,
  Trampled, to the end...
  Don't call me a friend,
  Neither a coward nor a liar!
  Then the girl took a grenade with her bare toes and threw it, a lethal force grenade. It blew the Taliban into pieces. The severed heads of the mujahideen rolled down the street.
  Angelica took it and sang:
  Day and night they bomb without stopping,
  Without knowing pity, shame...
  Because someone is acting strangely,
  An entire country is perishing!
  Alice, firing at the Taliban and piercing them through, took and noted, spitting out dust:
  - It's such a wonderful moment in this Russia,
  It's not easy to guess who is the jester and who is the president!
  The red-haired warrior giggled and noted:
  - That's how it happens - it's very stupid to have a spy as president!
  And both girls again unleashed streams of fire on the Taliban. And they did it with exceptional accuracy. And their shots hit the mujahideen.
  And in another place, other girls were fighting. And also, of course, barefoot, and almost naked.
  Alenka, for example, fired a bazooka using her scarlet nipple. She penetrated a Taliban fighter and several of his comrades.
  After which she chirped:
  - Now we are on parade again,
  We're not on the same path as the bandit.
  We are a brigade of barefoot girls,
  With us, the light of Lada is ahead!
  And the warrior, with her bare heel, will toss the gift of annihilation. And she will tear apart the mass of mujahideen.
  The women here are tough. Olga's also firing at the Taliban. The mujahideen are advancing. They're attacking in thick lines. And the girls are mowing them down without ceremony.
  Olga fired the flare gun, using her strawberry nipple. She knocked out a ton of Taliban and sang:
  - We will give our soul and heart,
  We are to our holy Fatherland...
  We will stand firm and win -
  And we will not spare our lives!
  And the girl will throw a gift of annihilation with her bare toes at the mujahideen, a gift of murderous force.
  And how great it is for the girls. How they beat up the Taliban.
  Veronica also fights. She uses her ruby nipples to shoot.
  And as a result, a mass of dushmans is destroyed. And the warrior screams at the top of her lungs:
  - I am the strongest in the world,
  I can strangle the Taliban...
  Kill the dushmans in the toilet,
  We'll make them look like game!
  And Veronica just goes and hits...
  Warrior Anna is with her. And she's exterminating the mujahideen. Naturally, the girl is wearing only panties. It's practical. And the panties are so thin, they don't really hide anything.
  Warrior Anna leads the fire, mowing down her enemies. Her hair is red, and the girl herself is simply the epitome of space society.
  And Anna, with her bare toes, throws gifts of death that strike the Taliban dead.
  The warrior screams at the top of her lungs:
  - The mujahideen are raging and on the move,
  The enemy moved his regiments forward...
  The girls carry, know victories,
  The Taliban will be met with hostility!
  
  They will bite into the pig's skin,
  The enemy will be defeated...
  The barefoot girls fight,
  The fist of a beauty is strong!
  And the warrior goes and hits, using her scarlet breast nipple in battle.
  And this, let's say, is very cool!
  A beautiful red-haired girl. And she loves men.
  Then Anna took it and roared at the top of her lungs:
  - An order was given to raze the village to the ground,
  Grad rockets destroy mountains...
  The Fuhrer with a bald head blew on Afghanistan,
  And let's leave the talking to hell!
  And the girl just bursts out laughing. And her laughter sounds like the ringing of bells.
  The girls are full of excitement. Malvina is also fighting. Naturally, the girl doesn't mind using her scarlet nipple. And the beauty even sings.
  And this is what happened -
  What the soldier didn't ask for!
  An evil tribe rolled in,
  Many hellish, dark forces!
  
  The black devils are impudent,
  Let's escape from this quagmire!
  Here in their hands are daggers-
  The howl of a song is not a nightingale!
  
  The machine gun crushed the infantry.
  Smoke from broken mortars!
  They laid down the company at once,
  The cuirassiers' armor didn't help!
  
  The pack has no desire to die,
  Hell, believe me, is not a resort!
  And the shells destroy the bunkers,
  Their archangel strikes from above!
  
  The demons all at once squealed into their holes,
  We burn them with napalm and sulfur!
  Even the mountains are melting,
  We destroy everything around us!
  
  But don't just think,
  What an enemy, like water!
  A giant, the pinnacle of growth,
  King of the Universe, Satan!
  
  Here is his breath, the flame,
  The cherub burns up at once!
  And the banner of God fell,
  But we believe we will win!
  
  We moved up the hill a little bit.
  And let us be baptized!
  They groaned on the way,
  Sons of the wise God!
  
  And now we run to the attack,
  Shout-hurray, thunder rolls!
  How much can you hear, really, mother,
  But damn the cabins, there's a rout!
  CHAPTER No 6.
  Upon waking, Oleg Rybachenko began doing exercises. Then he took a shower and brushed his teeth. He now faced new combat missions.
  Jean Grandier personally led the sabotage raid. He was joined by Paul, Edik, Stella, and Oleg, who proved himself a phenomenon. Fanfar was left out because he wasn't the best marksman, even though he'd been training a lot recently and had noticeably improved his accuracy.
  Jean was short, about fourteen years old, and his face was still bare. The others were mere children, especially Edik. And they raced on small but nimble horses.
  Only Oleg, who is an immortal highlander, prefers to run on foot, flashing his bare, tanned, muscular legs, as if woven from wire.
  Four boys and a girl with guns like a modernized Mauser rush into battle.
  More precisely, while they are jumping through the jungle and having a conversation.
  Jean asked Oleg:
  - Where did you learn to run so well?
  The boy warrior replied with a smile:
  We all learned a little bit,
  Somehow and by some means...
  Let's go on a long journey,
  An angel lights our way!
  Jean laughed and replied:
  - Well said!
  And the young capitalist fired. The bullet knocked down a predatory vulture, which was apparently searching for something in the jungle. And the vulture plummeted into the undergrowth. Several hyenas flashed by, ready to snatch the prey.
  Paul noted:
  - Yes, these animals... They eat whatever they can find!
  Edik chuckled and sang:
  My sweet and gentle beast,
  I'll shoot you, believe me...
  My sweet and gentle animal!
  Edik is still just a child, not even ten years old, but there are already many corpses of English soldiers of all nationalities.
  And now, the first skirmish-a patrol was caught. Five shots at once, then another for five seconds-children's rifles are special, with a high rate of fire. Even Paul took one instead of his drill-to keep up with the firing.
  And the girl shoots just as well as the boys. Now that's a real knockout.
  Having killed thirty British soldiers, most of them Arabs and blacks, the child terminators began to check their pockets. To avoid burdening themselves, they took only banknotes and gold coins.
  We found a document reporting the arrival of more and more reinforcements. The forces are indeed far too unequal.
  Oleg noted:
  - How many people are dying!
  Jean replied with a sigh:
  - Let it perish!
  The immortal boy exclaimed:
  - And for what purpose!
  Paul said confidently:
  "We're fighting for our independence! And we won't kneel, even if it means we all have to die!"
  Oleg nodded with a smile:
  - Commendable... However, we can recall the three hundred Spartans who fought with the countless army of King Xerzes, and in the end they died, but earned glory for many centuries!
  Stella chirped:
  It is better to die with dignity with a sword,
  Than to live like cattle that endure the whip and the stall!
  Oleg noted:
  - Well, Britain is a democracy, and it's the only country in Europe that has always had a parliament! Unlike, say, other countries!
  Jean nodded:
  - True! But in this case, Britain is waging an unjust war, and using uncivilized methods. Why, with its already-largest territory in the world, would it need to seize Transylvania and the Orange Free State? They can't even manage their own colonies!
  Paul exclaimed:
  - We will not give up our territory! And we will not give up our will either!
  Oleg remarked with a sigh:
  - What can we expect from Britain, that it will get tired of fighting and eventually run out of steam?
  Jean Grandier nodded:
  - Exactly! If the war drags on and Britain's losses become too great, public opinion will say: isn't that too high a price to pay for a relatively small territory? Maybe it's better to save the soldiers, and we have plenty of land as it is!
  Edik tweeted:
  The Englishman glanced sideways here,
  There's not enough land, they say...
  He encroached on his neighbors,
  And the kings went mad!
  Oleg nodded in agreement:
  - Yes, people get tired of war. For example, in my world, even the Americans eventually got tired of fighting the Taliban and left, although it took twenty whole years!
  Jean asked warily:
  "I know who the Americans are. They have a strong and rapidly growing economy, and with time they'll build up their army. I even think the US will push Britain aside in the future. But who are these Taliban?"
  Oleg answered with a sweet childish smile:
  "Taliban" translates as "students." They're religious fanatics. We'd better not touch them!
  Paul suggested:
  - Maybe we should just...
  Jean asked:
  - And what?
  The drill boy replied:
  - We'll blow up the bridge the railroad crosses. It won't be easy to restore it!
  Oleg noted:
  - Not a bad idea! That's kind of why we're here, but bridges like these are heavily guarded!
  Edik hissed:
  - Where an armored train can't pass, a barefoot boy can crawl!
  Stella suggested:
  "Let's dress up as girls. The boys are still suspected of being saboteurs, but no one will suspect the girls!"
  Jean nodded with a smile:
  "Not a bad idea. Although not new. However, to blow up a bridge you need a lot of explosives. And we, or rather, we can't carry the required amount in our baskets. Not to mention that the baskets themselves can check!"
  Oleg suggested:
  "Maybe we could try something simpler. Like, we could drive the train car with the explosives ourselves, and dress up as drummers."
  Paul exclaimed:
  "A wagon full of explosives? We need to time it right when the ammunition train arrives, and then the bridge will be completely destroyed! Even a small basket would be enough to carry a fair amount... well, not a large amount, but other ammunition would detonate, and it would blow up anyway."
  Edik squeaked:
  - What a great idea!
  And the boy slapped his bare feet. Of the riders, only Jean was wearing shoes. Apparently, as captain and commander of a battalion of youngsters, it was shameful for him to walk or ride barefoot, even though he, too, was still a teenager. The others were just kids. Oleg looks like he did at ten, but since he was a large man in his past life, he looks about twelve at ten, and he has rather strong and muscular shoulders.
  Oleg runs and jumps up - he is now immortal, and how good he feels, so much energy and strength.
  But ahead of the boys, a whole squadron of English lancers appeared. That's two hundred horsemen. And what's more, they're not exactly bulldogs, and they seem to have sensed the presence of child warriors.
  Jean grinned and noted:
  - Forty Englishmen each? Why are we accepting battle?
  Paul shouted:
  To a bloody, holy and just battle,
  March, march forward...
  Boys, people!
  To a bloody, holy and just battle,
  March, march forward,
  Boys, let's go hiking!
  Oleg remarked with a smile:
  - What do I care about immortality? By the way, I grabbed some ammo in my backpack! So we have plenty of ammo!
  Stella replied with a sigh:
  - We have to kill again! It's a shame!
  And the girl burst into tears. After which she picked up and raised her rifle.
  The children went into battle. They fired first, first killing the English bulldogs, accurately piercing their skulls. Then they began firing at the cavalry. The five were cleverly camouflaged in the jungle, making it difficult for the British to exploit their numerical superiority.
  Oleg sang with a sigh:
  How many times can you kill your loved ones?
  After all, believe me, man is born for happiness...
  The mother does not let her son go to the front,
  And even in summer there is bad weather during the war!
  And the boy fired. And then he took a pebble and threw it with his bare toes into the Englishman's, or rather, Arab mercenary's, temple, killing him instantly.
  Then he fired again. The children had brought a fair supply of ammunition and maneuvered skillfully. And it was a kind of combat exercise. Most of the warriors were colonial forces-blacks, Arabs, and Indians, but there were also some British. So it was a full-scale shooting spree.
  Oleg felt a sense of unease, especially when he had to shoot at members of the white race. But the eternal boy shot without a miss. The other marksmen were good, too. Even young Edik and the girl Stella. However, some of the fairer sex are even better shooters than the stronger sex.
  But still, the fair-haired girl is a good girl, and her hair is so curled that it reminds her of a doll.
  Oleg shoots, and new catchphrases come into his head, literally overwhelming the boy.
  Politics is a place where they always manage to make a mess, but sometimes the voter sweeps away the shit with a bloody stream of revolution!
  The word politician and the word decent are combined only with the addition of a third word - scoundrel!
  A politician may have everything in his character except conscience and honor, but he disguises himself as a conscience, even if dishonestly!
  A politician promises mountains of gold to the sky, so that he can become a star, but he doesn"t provide the golden light; with such a luminary, the voter won"t see the dawn!
  A politician has more masks than there are stars in the sky, but they are all just there to make it easier for the fox-politician to play pig!
  A politician is part fox, part wolf, part bull in a china shop, part cowardly hare, but in reality a complete pig!
  A politician loves to beat water in a mortar with his tongue - an activity that is useless for voters, but brings the politician income in the form of the foam of empty talk!
  In our dreams we are all heroes, but we march in formation, even though the commander is a pig, and we ourselves are worse than a sparrow!
  Everyone wants to be the eagle, but if you yourself are a wet chicken or a cowardly sparrow, then don"t flaunt yourself in vain!
  The politician crows a lot to hide his chicken brains and chicken strength!
  When a politician crows, it's a laughing matter, but when a dictator gets going, even eagles don't laugh!
  The politician promises a lot, but all he gets is a free circus!
  A politician can make people laugh, but he is not able to ensure a happy life!
  The politician is a clown in the shadows, but he prefers to wage the main battle under the carpet, and in such a way that voters won't be laughing!
  Pocket politicians do nothing but reach into voters' pockets with the raking shovel of their long tongues!
  Politicians have bottomless pockets and a completely empty soul!
  A politician is a kind beetle, only wingless and groveling like a worm before his superior!
  A politician is a fox in cunning, a wolf in his grip, a hamster in his greed, a monkey in his imitation of successful personalities, a pig in his attitude towards others, and in general there is nothing human about him!
  The language of a gigolo generates ecstasy, the language of a politician, the desire to vomit and shudder with disgust!
  It is better to be a gigolo than a politician, a gigolo does not empty pockets and give pleasure, a politician plays a dirty trick and gives rise to disgust!
  A politician is a gigolo whose tongue gets into all the holes at once, causing nausea and the desire to vomit!
  In politics there are no comrades, a lot of geese, and almost everyone is a pig!
  A politician is a goose who loves to show off, a pig who loves to shit on voters, and a fox who loves to gut people with chicken brains!
  A politician is used to lying, like a pig to shit, only, unlike an animal, a politician shits most near the trough, and bathes in moral filth, wearing a new, clean suit!
  A politician is a devil who loves light-colored suits, and a raven of war hiding behind the trill of a nightingale of peace!
  The politician makes people laugh with banal jokes, but is inventive in original ways to rip people off for watching his circus!
  It's better for a girl to give herself to the first guy she meets than to let herself be screwed by the first guy in the election!
  People elect politicians dreaming of getting a lion; if they're lucky, they get a fox; if they're unlucky, they get a donkey, but whatever the choice, the ruler is sure to make a mess!
  There is not much choice among politicians: a fox, a wolf, a bear, a donkey, a ram, a goat, a macaque, and always one with a pig's snout, but you can't find a person!
  The girl dreams of a falcon lover, and the voters of an eagle ruler, but the beauty gets at best a rooster, and the people a turkey, and one that even behaves like a pig, with an air of importance!
  A politician often says stupid things with a smart air, but he himself is not a fool at all; it"s just that stupidity is the most intricate master key to the door to the throne room!
  The politician creates confusion in his speeches and commits deception with the clear goal of gaining power over the clouded minds of voters!
  A politician without cunning is like porridge without butter, although a politician's program is nothing but porridge, while cunning brings guns instead of butter, and threatens to send voters to a mental hospital!
  In politics, as in a store, you can"t get anything without money, but with cunning you can grab votes for free!
  Politics is an equation where all the elements are unknown, except for one property - they"ll definitely screw up!
  Politics is a continuous swamp where the inhabitants want to grab the lion's share for themselves and make a mess up to their ears, and if the first doesn't always work out, the second happens at a Stakhanovite pace!
  Politics is an oak grove, but for a political pig to eat acorns, you first need to remove the shavings of intelligence with the help of woodpecker propagandists!
  Politics requires that one forget about conscience and honor to succeed, but when success comes, the voter again finds himself at a broken trough, and another penny flows into the pocket of the fox who is slipping the pig!
  A woman wants a man's love and money, a politician seeks the love of voters for the sake of money, but if the first one warms up and cooks food, then she will fleece the second one and palm off a pig!
  A politician is a scorpion, who, unlike an insect, loves not the desert, but big cities, but devastates them to the level of the Sahara!
  A tailor measures seven times and cuts once, a politician measures everyone with his own yardstick and always cuts!
  A poor barefoot boy is happier than a rich old man, especially if the miser is also given shoes by girls!
  A barefoot boy, smarter than an adult, who allows politicians to take advantage of him!
  It's better for a girl to walk barefoot than to eat cabbage soup with a bast shoe!
  A poor girl barefoot is more fun than a billionaire who is about to be shod for a penny!
  A penniless girl will shoe a billion with her bare heel!
  The fox also walks barefoot, although she wears an expensive fur coat, and a woman should be able to take off her shoes to get a luxurious outfit!
  The girl's bare feet are graceful and beautiful, but the man wearing the politician's shoes is a poisonous intellectual freak!
  Bare women's feet turn heads not only for the barefoot, but also for those who know how to professionally "shoe"!
  They want to undress a beautiful girl, "rip off" a rich woman, and skin a female politician!
  A girl with bare feet reaches into the wallet of the most worn-out man-boot!
  A man is certainly a boot, but it takes more than a bast shoe to put shoes on even a barefoot woman!
  A naked woman, like a naked dagger drawn from its sheath, strikes a man straight in the heart and takes off three skins!
  A snake sheds its skin twice a year, but a poisonous woman sheds her skin every time she wants to put shoes on a man and rip off three skins!
  A politician picks a voter's pocket with his tongue, and a woman puts her bare foot into a man's wallet, but both are wearing shoes up to their ears!
  A politician's smile is always fake, but a woman bares her teeth with a sincere desire to lift a man's spirits and achieve something more significant!
  The most fashionable leggings won't help you seduce a horny man if your bare feet aren't slanted!
  A woman's mouth will give a man an ocean of pleasure, a politician's tongue will rain down a mountain of promises on his head, regardless of gender!
  A woman's mouth sparkles with pearly teeth, while a politician's mouth sparkles with empty promises!
  A woman must be a cunning fox to avoid walking around barefoot and in rags for ages!
  Women have eyes that shine and captivate like heavenly bodies, while politicians have eyes like stars, they seem to shine, but the distance to the truth is unattainable!
  Blondes don't always have a clear conscience, but politicians always have a black soul, regardless of hair color!
  A barefoot blonde isn't always a bright girl, but she does give men black shoes!
  A blonde is a devil with an angelic appearance, and a politician is Satan, regardless of appearance!
  It's good for a woman to be a blonde, but it's worse to look pale!
  A woman doesn't always give birth to beautiful children, but a politician, regardless of gender, always creates ugly problems for voters!
  Bare women's feet are not always beautiful, but they are always better than the bast-shoe-wearing feet of politicians!
  Bare women's feet are more susceptible to the slippery promises of politicians than men's boots!
  A woman is a creature that loves tenderness, but not at all like a politician who spreads it softly!
  A woman's gentle hands can empty a man's pocket, but unlike a politician's tongue, they won't put a pig on him!
  A naked, round female heel is much more pleasant than the rounded speeches of politicians who have no masculine core!
  Girls' bare fingers are nimble in snatching gold coins from men's pockets, but unlike politicians' tongues, they won't leave you penniless!
  Dirt sticks to girls' bare feet much less than to the sticky hands of politicians!
  A woman loves to keep her body clean, and a politician likes to spew impurities on a spiritual level!
  A woman, having soiled her body, maintains her spiritual purity; a politician, having put on a clean suit, continues to make a pig!
  A woman may get dusty, but dirt does not stick to a clean soul, and a politician, even after taking a bath, remains a pig!
  Blondes can also go dark, but a woman is still an angel, and a politician, regardless of hair color, is Satan himself!
  The politician loves women with blonde hair and bare, slender legs, and at the same time loves to cut voters' hair, regardless of color, and shoe them in all sizes!
  The light of a woman's soul does not depend on the color of her hair, but the level of spiritual darkness in a politician increases with the length of his tongue!
  It's good when you're a blonde, men flock to light hair like moths, but a politician, even in white, is blacker than the devil!
  A woman doesn't have to be a blonde - the main thing is to have a bright soul!
  Bare toes of women's feet are very tenacious in grabbing men in rich suits!
  Women grab men with their bare toes, the beauty and slenderness of which determine their tenacity, and politicians grab voters with their tongues, and the longer and stickier the tongue, the stronger the grip!
  A barefoot boy is more likely to climb the mountain of success than a shod old man!
  A boy with a copper penny in his pocket feels better than a rich man with a bag of gold on his back!
  A barefoot girl leaves footprints that are admired, but a politician leaves such a trail of marks with his boots that people will spit on them for a century!
  So the boy warrior continued firing. Many Englishmen and their mercenaries were killed. But then a couple more squadrons arrived with reinforcements and joined the battle. That's a full five hundred horsemen. That's a hundred for each.
  This doesn't faze the fighting five. Four boys and a girl maneuver deftly, hiding in the jungle undergrowth, and shoot quite often and accurately. Such are their young and magnificent warriors.
  But the question is, will such a number of English troops have enough ammunition?
  Nevertheless, the shooting continues and the bodies continue to pile up.
  Oleg noted with a sweet look, throwing a heavy, sharp stone again with his bare, childish foot:
  - This is extermination! We're like tanks!
  Indeed, for example, in the game "Entente," heavy tanks, if properly upgraded through the military and scientific academies, mow down infantry like a scythe does weeds. A tank is a truly formidable weapon, unmatched by anything or anyone. As soon as it gets going, it starts shooting at the enemy.
  But of course, a good tank is a heavy one, light ones are not the same.
  And here they are, like heavy tanks, literally shooting everyone with a cultivator.
  Every second, a shot and a corpse. True, after about thirty single shots, you need to change the magazine, but that's still a short time.
  So the hunt began. And the boys showed neither mercy nor weakness. And the girl Stella was with them, too.
  And the pierced fighters fall.
  Oleg even sang:
  Great, mighty, sacred country,
  There is nothing more radiant under the blue sky!
  She is given to us by the Almighty God forever -
  Unbounded light of sublime Russia!
    
  The world has never seen such a power, you know,
  So that we can proudly trample the vastness of space!
  Every star in the universe sings to you,
  May Rus' be happy with us!
    
  After all, this is our Motherland, this is our destiny,
  To command the space of all matter!
  Any of us, believe me, would want this,
  Without any nonsense, women's superstitions!
    
  The archangels blow their mighty trumpet,
  They loudly praise the march of our armies!
  And the enemy will find his lot in a wasp coffin,
  And not receive taxes and tribute!
    
  This is our Motherland, believe me, everything in it is beautiful,
  She turned the entire universe around without any effort!
  The pretty girl's weighty braid,
  She wants the barrel to be strong!
    
  The Fatherland is the gaze of the mother's blue eyes,
  Her hand is both gentle and like stone!
  And you kill the adversary, young man, with a bullet -
  So that the flame in your heart burns brighter!
    
  Take the oath to the boundless Fatherland,
  Of course, she is also a blessing to you!
  Though in the fury of battle a stream of blood flows,
  The enemy will now receive retribution!
    
  Weapons and courage are such a powerful alloy,
  No evil one can overcome it!
  I flew quickly on a plane with bombs,
  And when it explodes, the windows are showered with hail!
    
  And here is the ruler's order: fly to Mars, boy -
  It's time for you to set up space!
  And the Martian's arrogance will get a hard punch in the eye,
  Then we see distances beyond Pluto!
    
  Let us reach the heights of space, seeing the edge of the universe,
  This is our human destiny!
  And therefore, boy, dare to perform feats,
  After all, you know, reward is something that can be earned!
  CHAPTER No 7.
  More reinforcements had arrived for the British, so the base was obviously close, and not only cavalry, but also infantry was arriving.
  The young warriors were running out of ammunition, and Jean decided to retreat.
  Oleg Rybachenko, since he possessed immortality and was the fastest on their team, suggested that he would cover the retreat and distract the British.
  The other children didn't object. They'd seen Oleg in action and were confident he wouldn't let them down.
  And so the boy-terminator remained, and the four on miniature horses walked away.
  Oleg, in an effort to conserve his nearly exhausted bullets, began to actively toss the numerous shell casings his opponent had left behind with his bare feet. And if a shell casing were thrown with acceleration and struck a forehead, it would have a lethal effect no less powerful than a real bullet.
  And the boy-superman continued to fight, with stunning effectiveness. True, thoughts also flashed through his mind: why did he get involved in this war? After all, the Boers are no angels, and the British are no honor. Although they are indeed fighting for lands that will be lost in a few decades.
  And here people die in vain. Although how many times have they died in vain before? Let's remember the time of Genghis Khan. Millions of people died, and the Mongol Empire disappeared without a trace!
  And the same can be said about the British Empire, which lost almost all of its colonies in the twentieth century.
  And now you're killing the English - what do you need?
  Oleg Rybachenko wanted to scream that he wasn't a murderer and that he felt sorry and disgusted by the destruction of living people. After all, every person is their own world.
  But the boy remembered that the Russian Gods had sent him into this universe, ordering him to help the Boers defeat the English and fight in Jean Grandier's battalion of young thugs. And now he was obligated to fulfill the will of the Russian Gods and earn his immortality.
  Well, if that's the case, then he will do a great job.
  As they say in games, he killed and conquered so many people.
  And the boy-terminator began to sing, continuing to crush the English:
  We are the pioneers, children of Artemis,
  Born instead of a pacifier with a holster!
  To the glory of our mother Russia -
  The boy fights bravely!
    
  The bright tie burns like a torch,
  A wonderful choir sings the anthem of the Fatherland!
  And the Fuhrer will get a sharp cactus in his ass,
  We know how to crush hordes of enemies!
    
  The party taught us the power of battle,
  Be able to shoot and run, fight everyone!
  Let the older brothers be taken into the army,
  But we will also reap great success!
    
  What kind of service does the Motherland like?
  In the trenches, if necessary, at the machine!
  And the strongest friendship under the red flag,
  Let my country come to communism!
    
  How hard it is at the front when you are surrounded,
  It's already snowing, and we're barefoot, the ragamuffins!
  There will be no forgiveness for the Fritz monsters,
  And you, in your dreams, fight and dare!
    
  We boys are exhausted from fighting,
  Hungry, my foot was broken and bleeding!
  But we will not allow ourselves to be beaten with boots,
  How my soul loves you, Rus'!
    
  We don"t know the word captivity, well, to hell with weakness,
  How many guys died in battle!
  Sometimes fatigue creeps in,
  When the load is a hundred-ton machine gun!
    
  But there is no need for us to give in to grief,
  I didn"t swear an oath to God for that!
  Must serve Russia without vile deeds,
  Comrade Stalin, the eternal ideal!
    
  But the main thing is courage and bravery,
  Resourcefulness and beauty of thoughts!
  Don't think that culture is a small thing,
  After all, poetry is born from the language of fire!
    
  In my chest there is the flame of Jesus,
  Who is God and Savior and Communist!
  Holiness does not tolerate, know the soul of a coward,
  The only way is up, don't even think about falling down!
  While not exactly a steppe poem, it's still cool and awesome, and sung like a boy warrior. With feeling and expression.
  And again he chattered about throwing lethal cartridges with his bare little toes and punching holes in his opponents' skulls.
  Oleg noted:
  - War is war! Not always holy, but always bloody!
  And the boy whistled. And his whistle was so piercing that several hundred crows fell, their beaks piercing the skulls of English soldiers.
  Then the boy burst out laughing. And with his bare toes, he flung a whole dozen shell casings. And they lashed out at the ranks, knocking out regiments of mercenaries. Now that was truly a deadly effect.
  Oleg continued the fight, using both sabers at once. His speed and endurance made it as effective as firing a machine gun. And quite rapidly, at that. The boy hacked and kicked the shells, and began singing again:
  Our century is so wonderful, believe me,
  You can do everything in it...
  And even space is not dangerous,
  Various crooks have disappeared!
  
  In it, schools are paradise and entertainment,
  Any food is like snow in winter...
  The child will go on an adventure,
  With your great dream!
  
  We don't need to think about sad things,
  There is no trace of old age...
  Such feelings do exist,
  And a bouquet of fresh roses forever!
  
  But now we are in a different world,
  It has fairies, gnomes, sorcerers...
  We are just children, barefoot,
  But born to win!
  
  With a magic wand they are capable,
  You can conjure anything...
  If we have to move mountains,
  And we extract grace!
  
  Dragons fly across the sky,
  It's so easy to fight them...
  Nature has become an eternal May,
  It's so wonderfully good in her!
  
  And the elves, in this wonderful light,
  The waters sparkle like pearls...
  On a wonderful magical planet,
  We are leading a children's round dance!
  
  We will have great love,
  Let's light a hundred luminaries in the sky...
  For us, judges will become a quasar,
  And in the endless light of forces!
  
  God does not love the weak, believe me,
  He wants you to be like the light...
  For the sake of the magical power,
  The glorious man would work hard!
  
  Yes, everything is beautiful in this world,
  Like gems, a swarm of dragonflies...
  We will be together as a team,
  Without shedding bitter tears!
  
  There is no more beautiful place on the whole Earth,
  And the Sun's yellow, bright circle...
  I'll give a bouquet to Masha,
  So that the girl's gaze does not fade!
  
  Yes, magic is powerful, believe me,
  Capable of moving mountains...
  In appearance, we are all children of the Family,
  And the thread of life will not be broken!
  
  Of course, slaves can rebel,
  As the brave Spartacus commanded...
  The slaves groan in pain,
  You kick it in the snout!
  
  The dragon, of course, is powerful,
  We can overcome him...
  Even though clouds hover over the Fatherland,
  The angry bear roars!
  
  Here the orcs attack in a swarm,
  We'll be able to cut them down...
  Guys, believe me, they won't give up.
  The hunter will become the game!
  
  We have the strength of generations behind us,
  We children flew to Mars...
  Lenin led the country at first,
  Then another leader saved the Earth!
  
  After all, we have such muscles,
  Elastic muscles in children...
  We run barefoot through the snow,
  The villain was destroyed by a blaster!
  
  Let's bring happiness to the universe,
  So that the rye blossoms from gold...
  Everything will be in the light of the world of power,
  Evil, meanness and lies will disappear!
  
  Yes, for years I'm a child,
  But the mind is quite titanium, believe me...
  The young one rose from his swaddling clothes,
  The evil tyrant is defeated and defeated!
  
  My love for the Holy Fatherland,
  With all my heart and bright soul...
  We now live under communism,
  Where is the golden washbasin!
  
  What do magic and gnomes mean to us?
  Technology is important here...
  Let's build a new world, believe me,
  And into the abyss of Satan's wiles!
  
  Love burns in a child's heart,
  Strive for open fields...
  We opened the door to immortality,
  And together we will be, you and I!
  
  Here I fought with a terrible orc,
  He cut it with his sword...
  We fought with the enemy for a very short time,
  You know, we don't care about troubles!
  
  If we have to fight Koschei,
  We'll eat this fruit too, believe me...
  He will do any undertaking,
  There is nothing cooler in the future than children!
  
  Adventures await in the new world,
  I know such miracles...
  Of course, revenge will come for evil,
  And the heavens will burn!
  
  The bald demon will soon perish,
  There will be peace in the skies...
  There will be others after us,
  Even Shakespeare cannot describe them!
  
  I will kneel before God,
  I'll read a prayer and go straight into battle...
  In the name of bright generations,
  There will be no other fate!
  
  Years will pass, we will grow up,
  We will have offspring, you know...
  And the grass turns green again,
  The whole universe will become paradise!
  So Oleg sang and hacked away with all his desperate might. Although the boy felt very sorry to kill living people. Moreover, the English are a civilized people and, one might say, an advanced country.
  But what they did to the prisoners did not paint this civilization in a good light.
  The British interrogated the captured girl. First, they took off her shoes and marched her barefoot through the jungle. The girl wasn't from a poor family, and her bare feet weren't used to being barefoot. So she walked with her hands tied behind her back, like a prisoner. And what's it like to walk barefoot through the jungle? Your bare soles catch on thorns, pine cones, twigs, and bumps, and it's a painful sensation.
  But the girl had to walk a long way and her tender feet were covered in blood.
  The girl was then taken to the torture chamber. There, her clothes were torn off and she was tied to a post. The executioner then began to strike her with a seven-tailed sea whip. The girl moaned and cried from the blows. Her tender skin burst and blood gushed. The torturer's assistant filled a bucket with water and threw salt in. He approached the girl with a clumsy gait. He took the salt water and splashed it on her. The girl, beaten bloodily, screamed at the top of her lungs and lost consciousness from the intense pain.
  The English executioners laughed. Torture is not yet illegal in Britain, so it can be carried out.
  A boy of about thirteen was brought into the basement for torture. First, they showed him a beaten and tortured girl lying unconscious. Then the executioner injected the battered woman with a stimulant. And she came to.
  The chief executioner said:
  - The same thing will happen to you, boy, if you don"t tell me where Captain Jean"s base is, you"ll get your head cut off.
  The boy muttered:
  - I don't know! I'm not from his squad!
  Several scribes recorded the readings using automatic fountain pens. Tape recorders and sound recording had not yet been invented. Electric stoves, however, were already in use.
  And the chief executioner ordered:
  - Well, fry this boy with torture!
  They sat the child in a special chair and stood up. Before doing so, they tore off his clothes. The blunt spikes dug into the boy's back and shoulder blades, which was quite painful.
  But it was even more painful when the boy's bare, albeit calloused, soles were placed on the electric stoves connected to the food-supply lines. Then, a red-haired female executioner turned the switch, and the stoves began to heat up.
  Of course, the boy's feet were quite calloused. He was still at an age when walking barefoot wasn't embarrassing, and the climate in southern Africa is quite mild. And of course, being barefoot is much more comfortable, especially for a child. But it was still living skin, albeit roughened, and childish, at that, and it began to burn. The executioner turned the knob again, and the stove began to glow red. And the smell of burning meat began to rise, as if a lamb was being barbecued. And then the boy began to scream.
  But his bare feet were clasped in steel bracelets, so thick and strong that they could hold a buffalo. The boy howled and whined:
  - I'm sorry! I don't know anything! Oh, Mommy, help me!
  When the woman turned again, the smell of burning intensified, and the unfortunate child passed out from pain shock.
  The stove was turned off, but the torture wasn't over. The boy was hoisted up on a rack, his bare, scorched feet secured in stocks, and weights were hung from hooks on the device, stretching the boy.
  And he wheezed and groaned in pain. The worst part was that the boy truly knew nothing and was a random victim. Although the Boers had children fighting, too. And besides, the white population of the two republics was only two hundred thousand, while the British were completing the formation of a two-hundred-fifty-thousand-strong army to confront them. And such an army isn't all that much for an empire whose population, including its colonies and dominions, approached five hundred million.
  That is, even taking into account the disproportionately large losses in battles with the Boers, the latter have practically no chance. And thirty thousand fighters, assembled almost entirely, is almost the limit. Moreover, the Boers are full of prejudice and believe that women should not fight. If there are any representatives of the fair sex, it is only among foreign volunteers, or nurses, or in intelligence.
  By the way, in Captain Daredevil's battalion, girls often go on reconnaissance missions because they are less feared and suspected.
  But they grab the boys.
  And he was just curious, not a spy, but they still torment him.
  They decided to give the girl a little electric shock. They started applying electrodes to sensitive areas. It's really painful, I must say. More accurately, it's incredibly painful. Since the current travels along the nerve endings, it's impossible to inflict more pain than electricity.
  The boy was also stretched out thoroughly and tortured with a special broom made of steel and barbed wire connected to a special dynamo. Oh, how it hurt. It was excruciating, and the poor boy was simply screaming his head off.
  If Oleg Rybachenko had seen this, perhaps his conscience would have tormented him less. However, in his past life, in the game "Entente," he set a record in just one mission by destroying over two billion combat units without suffering any casualties. Thus, he scored over two hundred billion points in the computer game-probably a record for any computer game of all time.
  But it's one thing to destroy virtual information in conventional bits and bytes, and quite another to destroy living, real people. There's a huge difference, of course. And of course, the boy's conscience torments him.
  To distract himself, Oleg Rybachenko began to utter catchphrases, genuine pearls of thought:
  If a politician has a smart boot, then the voter will eat sour cabbage soup with a torn bast shoe!
  In politics, the hardest and sharpest blade is a boneless tongue, and the strongest chain mail is the absence of firm principles!
  The politician also wants to possess the secret of youth, so that all voters become childish and start crying!
  The easiest people to buy into a politician's long tongue are those who have a brain in short pants!
  A man may be as strong as an oak, but even if he is a woodpecker, a woman will still take shavings from him!
  A man has a trunk, a woman has a well, but a male cannot give birth to offspring with the flesh, and a woman cannot give birth to the character of a warrior spiritually!
  In boxing, they hit each other in the face with their hands wearing gloves; in politics, they slap each other around with their tongues without white gloves!
  There is no such thing as boxing without gloves, there is no such thing as white glove politics!
  In boxing they beat you cruelly, but according to the rules, but in politics they beat you mercilessly without rules!
  In boxing there are rules and judges, in politics there are fights without rules, and continuous lynching!
  Boxing is chess, in reverse, and yet a noble sport, politics is completely devoid of nobility, and a sport in which lawlessness reigns!
  In boxing, the judging and techniques aren't always fair, but at least they fight one-on-one, while in politics, they always gang up on the weakest!
  In battle, caution and ingenuity are needed, but in governing a country, a dictator uses sticks without knowing the brakes!
  A dictator is a boxer whose sense of responsibility has been knocked out and his compassion has been flattened!
  A dictator is a fighter who fights with someone else's hands and gives orders with a voice that is not his own!
  A dictator is a wolf in an ermine robe, but he devours the flesh of voters with noodles on his ears and donut holes!
  A politician is a distance runner who constantly cuts corners and bends the rules!
  Runners run with their legs, but a politician moves with the help of a long tongue!
  A boxer hits you in the liver, and the politician is already in pain!
  A dictator is a boxer who always hits below the belt with someone else's hands, doesn't listen to the gong and is his own referee!
  Boxing is a fist fight with soft gloves, politics is a fight with tongues without white gloves!
  Boxers with their fists, politicians with their tongues, boxers with fair rules, politicians with dishonest lawlessness!
  A woman is also a boxer, but she is most deadly when she takes off all her clothes!
  Professional boxers fight bare-chested, while professional boxers bare more than just their torsos!
  A boxing match is limited in time by rules, but a political showdown knows no time limits or rules!
  Boxers fight openly in public, politicians fight under the carpet, and sometimes they even come out to bite their tongues below the belt!
  A stubborn boxer is commendable, but politicians are more often than not stubborn in their delusions!
  The politician is eager to become a lion, but defending an erroneous point of view is a typical ram, and a stubborn donkey who makes a pig of himself!
  Boxing is a bright and beautiful spectacle, politics is also blinding, but it is disgusting to look at, and a hundred times worse to listen to!
  A politician may sometimes have the bright plumage of a peacock and the eloquence of a nightingale, but in his dealings with voters he still remains a wingless pig!
  In boxing, long arms are valuable; in politics, long tongues are much more deadly for an entire country!
  A boxer can knock out only one opponent in the ring with his fist, but a politician can turn the entire country into ruins with his long tongue under the carpet!
  The most resilient marathon runner is a politician; sometimes even a lifetime is not enough for him to reach the throne!
  A runner calculates his strength for an hour, but even the most calculating politician cannot save up his strength for eternity!
  A politician is often homophobic, but he is always a big ass, a neat freak, but he is a real pig!
  A politician is not always an important person, but he is definitely a huge ass!
  Voters perceive the politician they vote for as a fairy-tale prince, but always get a naked king on the throne!
  The dictator imagines himself to be a peacock in diamonds and an emperor in purple robes, but when the voter demands an account, he turns out to be a naked king and a plucked, wet chicken!
  A woman's will is like a diamond in a necklace, political lack of will is a cobblestone tied to a noose around the neck!
  A woman can be compared to a diamond, a man to a flint, and a politician to a clot of feces!
  You can fight a powerful enemy by force, but no force will make you listen to a politician's speech to the end, even if he forces himself on you as a friend three times over!
  Everything in the world requires effort, but falling asleep to the monotonous muttering of a politician is not difficult!
  In boxing you often get broken noses, but in politics you always end up with nothing!
  A boxer's nose is crooked, and in politics the path to leaving a voter with nothing is also crooked!
  In boxing, points are sometimes counted unfairly; in elections, votes are always dishonest!
  In boxing, both how you fight and how the votes are counted are important, and the king of the ring has a bit of a head start. In politics, it doesn't matter how people vote, and the counting is entirely in the hands of the one on the throne!
  In sports you can become a naked-chested monarch, but in politics everyone is already a naked king!
  In sports you can get sweaty and dusty, but in politics you'll definitely get dirty and no shower will wash off the stinking filth!
  A soldier can grow a stubble but still be pleasant to the touch for a woman, but a politician, no matter how smoothly he shaves, feels like kissing a reptile!
  A soldier is an eagle in the rank of a sparrow, a politician is a wet chicken in the rank of a turkey!
  A soldier may not be flashy in form and may sometimes carry out stupid orders, but unlike a parrot politician, he doesn't sing from someone else's voice!
  A soldier is a hard-working ant of war, while a politician pours shit on top, being a fat drone of the rear!
  A soldier is brave even when he is timid, a politician is cowardly even when he is cocky!
  The soldier is noble, but not free; the politician is vile, and also, in essence, a slave to passions!
  A soldier is a lion, albeit still undersized, but a politician is a fox, even overgrown!
  A soldier is like an angel in hell, and a politician is like a pig feasting during a plague!
  It's more comfortable for a barefoot boy to run through the snow than for a shod politician to maneuver between streams!
  A boy, even naked in the cold, is happier than an old man, doused with the filth of a politician"s speech!
  A woman is not so afraid of being naked and barefoot as she is of being fleeced by a male politician and having her skinned!
  A woman may appear timid, but little can truly frighten her; a male dictator may appear menacing, but he shies away from his own shadow!
  For a dictator, silence is golden only if his subjects tolerate his tongue in his pocket without complaint!
  CHAPTER 8
  Oleg Rybachenko, as they say, broke a lot of branches and firewood. And he killed many English soldiers and foreign mercenaries of all stripes from this innumerable army.
  But in the end, he broke into a run, and only the boy's bare heels, scarlet from pools of blood, flashed by. He'd really already fought for quite a while. Why should he keep killing people?
  The young Terminator ran, thinking that while the battalion of young offspring might be essentially juvenile killers, they were also good guys and heroes, and it would be a good idea to spare their lives. And Jean Grandier, the captain, was no thug, even if he had killed many living people.
  However, I feel sorry for the soldiers of the Lion Empire. They are, after all, enslaved people, merely following orders. It's not their fault they were driven to the middle of nowhere, thousands of miles from Britain, to fight for a colony that's not really all that useful. Moreover, although South Africa is rich in gold and diamonds, the Boer republics on this planet don't have all that valuable deposits. So whether they're worth laying down your life for is a question!
  And conquest costs a lot of money, since troops have to be moved over long distances. And that involves logistics, supplies, and communications.
  The boy ran along and even began to sing:
  Mad, damned war,
  After all, how much killing will you have to do...
  Satan has apparently broken free from his chains,
  And suddenly the sun in the sky dimmed!
  The boy warrior wanted to continue composing, but somehow inspiration deserted him. Especially since he was once again faced with a squadron of Arab, colonial cavalry. And once again, the boy had to hack at them with his swords.
  It's good that he's now immortal, and unusually strong and fast, and you can't just take Oleg Rybachenko with your bare hands.
  And the heads, chopped off by the boy-terminator's sabers, roll and bounce like balls. And it must be said that this is, in its own way, amusing.
  Oleg kicked the cavalry captain in the chin with his bare, round, childish heel and sang:
  To show in battle,
  We should have talents...
  To give,
  Diamonds for the girl!
  And the sabers are working again. Even if they get dull, grab another one, a trophy one.
  And so it went on until the entire squadron was destroyed. Finally, Oleg whistled, and the stunned crows pierced the heads of the cavalrymen.
  A squadron of about two hundred sabers was slaughtered. And the boy regained his freedom of movement. His mood became high. After all, he was winning.
  I recalled one AI as I ran - there, the torrential rains in October simply didn't arrive. And Hitler's troops, with no autumn thaw, were able to take Moscow on the fly. They didn't have time to transfer divisions from the Far East, arm the militia, much less train them, or even establish a defensive line.
  Stalin barely managed to escape. And so the situation arose. After the fall of Moscow, desertion and surrender of the Red Army intensified even more. Entire divisions were surrendering to the sound of drums.
  Stalin, too, had lost his authority. His position had been betrayed by his own men, and Hitler's air force had eliminated the supreme leader in a single, targeted strike. Afterwards, Molotov and Beria offered Germany peace on any terms. Hitler demanded surrender first, then negotiations. Beria and Molotov agreed in exchange for guarantees of personal safety.
  And so ended the campaign to the east. But of course, the war didn't end there. Britain and the United States remained. The latter, however, wanted to avoid war at all costs.
  To begin with, Hitler literally presented an ultimatum to Franco, demanding that he allow German troops to reach Gibraltar.
  The Spanish dictator agreed to this.
  At the same time, German troops destroyed the British base on Malta. They then captured it by airborne troops. Thus, victory was achieved. Gibraltar was then taken. And the Nazis gained the ability to transport troops to Africa by the shortest possible distance.
  Well, Rommel's corps was reinforced, significantly so. First, Tolbuk was stormed by superior forces. Then came the offensive on Epipet. Rommel's troop numbers were constantly increasing.
  Beria and Molotov squabbled, and ultimately the head of the secret police prevailed. Hitler, however, preserved limited autonomy for most of the USSR. But the Volga region and the Caucasus remained the territory of the Third Reich.
  And from the Caucasus, hordes of fascists climbed into Iran and further into the Middle East.
  Britain had no chance of holding on to its colonies. The United States, meanwhile, was attacked at Peru Harbor and suffered defeat after defeat.
  Oleg arrived during the period when the Germans, having already captured Egypt, were advancing on Sudan. And then he had his own adventures.
  The boy wanted to remember them, but was distracted again. In this case, he saw enemy infantry advancing through the forest. And that he had to attack them too.
  The boy-terminator did it reluctantly. Naturally, he primarily threw shell casings at his opponents with his bare toes. And he did it quite accurately.
  And English and foreign soldiers fell. It was a total massacre. Oleg wasn't exactly thrilled to kill people. Especially if they were white. But if the higher powers ordered the boy to fight, fight on the side of the Boers, then fight.
  But what benefit could this have given Russia? Perhaps they would have fought against the Japanese.
  Oleg, cutting down the infantry with his swords, sang:
  Forgive me, Holy Lord,
  Good people get killed...
  I tear the flesh with sabers,
  I don"t know what I"m fighting for!
  And you really can't understand why. The boy remembered how, in a parallel universe, he, too, had performed such an extraordinary and incredible feat that his head literally spun. And for what other purpose, too, was unknown.
  Young Pioneers Danka and Oleg, as excellent students and outstanding athletes, earned the right to represent their country, the USSR, in a friendly boxing competition organized between children's sports clubs from the USSR and Germany. The two countries were still considered allies, and rumors of an impending war had died down. Indeed, German troops had withdrawn from the border, and the Wehrmacht was waging a victorious offensive in Africa, having already conquered Egypt, and had just been informed of the capture of Gibraltar. Stalin personally congratulated the Führer on this!
  So, you can confidently fly to a seemingly friendly country. The German press has only good things to say about the Soviet Union, and communism is even being considered a fraternal ideology to National Socialism. And a movement similar to the Stakhanovite movement has even emerged...
  Danka and Oleg are boxers in the youngest age group, just eleven years old, the minimum age for competing. But they're quite large for their age, and they belong to a less rapid-paced era than the late twenty-first century.
  Oleg, admittedly, is smaller, thinner, and of a lighter weight class, but very fast. Danka is larger, more broad-boned; he looks at least fourteen to the mighty youth.
  The boys also differ in hair color. Oleg is a light, snow-white, natural blond. Danka has brown hair. Oleg is a few months younger, and with his round face, he looks like a mere child, while Danka is simply a handsome man, worthy of a propaganda poster. Girls are already staring at him, not believing he's just such a big boy.
  However, Oleg is much more erudite than Danka, even though both boys are quite smart and get straight A's. After all, in the Soviet Union, good athletes were expected to be excellent students.
  The rest of the guys are older, but under eighteen, although a couple of the giants are a good two meters tall and weigh almost a hundred kilograms...
  Boxers, the best young talent in the country... And they will be fighting the champions of Germany and its dependent countries... Among children, of course, or juniors.
  They fly non-stop on the largest passenger airliner of the Third Reich on the Moscow-Berlin route.
  The boxers are seated separately, but there are also wrestlers, weightlifters, football players, and swimmers. All are juniors and have excellent performances. Stalin ordered that our new generation, born under Soviet rule, show their best and rise to the occasion. And, of course, everyone is eager to fight...
  Danka asked Oleg:
  - Have you made a tactical plan for the battle?
  The boy replied:
  - I have a dozen plans for each opponent... But first I have to look at him, and only then make a decision... Each one requires a personal approach, the slightest movement and the specifics, including the physiological structure of the opponent, dictate a purely individual tactic.
  Danka snorted contemptuously:
  "But I do things much more simply! Without tactics, I rush at the enemy, hit harder and more often, and break them."
  Oleg noted:
  There aren't many guys your age as big and physically developed as you. So, pressure tactics work. You can simply take him by storm. But I'm almost average height, maybe a little above average, and to become champion of the USSR, such a huge country, pressure alone isn't enough. You can't take your opponent with brute force; he trains too, lives a healthy lifestyle, eats right, studies tactics. And then you have to outplay him, like in a game of chess. Sometimes even by sacrificing something for the sake of checkmate.
  Danka objected harshly:
  "And my opponents train, too. In the final, the kid was even bigger and heavier than me. A lot depends on how you train. Some people think you can become an Olympic champion in two weeks, working yourself to the point of exhaustion... That's a misconception. After all, the most important thing in sports training isn't so much super-loading as super-recovery. But there are properly tailored exercise programs, and the most important thing is subsequent recovery and strength building... After that, you fight without a hitch, throwing hundreds of punches in three rounds-or rather, much less, actually."
  Oleg noted:
  "Well, that's certainly true! In particular, the secret of proper breathing and injections into the growth points of a child's body... There are some know-hows here from our guru. But I just don't understand why he doesn't share them with other trainers?"
  Danka whispered:
  "He told me in confidence that you and I... are not just boxers, but first and foremost soldiers. We still have something special to accomplish... Something very important, even more important than Olympic gold!"
  Oleg bowed his fair head and said:
  - Something more important... Perhaps he told me the same thing... That the fate of humanity could depend on the actions of two Soviet boy pioneers. Just like in a fairy tale.
  Danka philosophically remarked:
  "Where do fairy tales come from, if not from life? Maybe it really will be like that! We may not be ugly ducklings, but... It's too early to call us eagles."
  Oleg smoothly changed the subject of the conversation:
  - Do you think the threat of a German invasion has finally passed?
  Danka shrugged his broad shoulders in bewilderment:
  "I think you're the more expert here. Personally, I think you can't attack with all your hands and feet at once, and attacking in all directions is also impossible. However, if you jump and attack..."
  Oleg chuckled:
  "It sounds perfectly logical... But we don't know what Hitler is thinking, exactly, but the tension has indeed eased, and German planes have stopped violating our airspace, and the clanking of tracks has ceased to be heard abroad-that's a fact. And the Führer has also sent some of the workers back to their machines. In other words, the Third Reich has hidden its fangs... But we mustn't relax."
  Danka pulled a baked fish sandwich with special low-fat cheese from his backpack and handed it to Oleg. Then he pulled out a twice-large one for himself. He offered:
  - Let's eat... You can't take long breaks between meals and protein intake. When the body's amino acid levels drop, muscles lose strength.
  Oleg noted:
  - For bodybuilders who work on mass, this is quite fair, but for boxers... After all, not every kind of meat makes the body beautiful, much less improves combat effectiveness!
  Danka, having bitten into his sandwich and added a tomato to it, agreed:
  "Not just any kind, but... I even eat or drink egg whites at night to keep my amino acid levels up. And it's best not to use chicken eggs, but quail or ostrich eggs, though the latter are rare, to be honest... Although I think they've started breeding ostriches in Central Asia already..."
  Oleg joked quite seriously (judging by his tone):
  Frogs' front legs contain very valuable protein. I highly recommend trying them!
  Danka giggled like a boy:
  - Yes, and even more so in oysters with red Indian pepper!
  Oleg, however, carefully took a bite of the sandwich and began to devour it. The fish was red, delicious, and drenched in ketchup and crushed garlic. It could have given him a little extra energy... Like, say, Winnie the Pooh...
  Winnie the Pooh has a good life! He has a wife and children, he's a fool!
  Oleg suddenly suggested:
  - Maybe we should sing?
  Danka noted without much enthusiasm:
  - Isn't it too early to sing?
  Oleg smiled:
  - Just right, especially since we flew over the USSR border!
  Danka asked his partner:
  - Scissors or paper?
  Oleg waved it off:
  "Maybe we should skip the childish jokes. We're peaceful people, but our armored train managed to reach the speed of light..."
  Danka interrupted:
  - No! We don't need these kind of kindergarten songs. Let's have something more... patriotic!
  Oleg filled his lungs and began singing, making it up as he went. Danka, for his part, sang along quite well. Or rather, his voice was like a marshal's trumpet, or maybe even the Trumpet of Jericho!
  Why is there no star brighter than the Sun?
  Because it gives light to the Fatherland!
  Here, everyone gets warmth,
  Humanity forward with a song!
  How red is the ray of communism;
  He gives us both food and shelter!
  But know the treachery in this dualism,
  That not every spirit in the body is healthy!
  
  Somewhere beyond the border there are evil ones,
  What goods are collected in sacks!
  What they want to do is hurt Russia,
  And put a yoke on your neck!
  
  Capital is often soaked in blood,
  What Marx the Great wrote about!
  The faces of the bosses grin angrily from their coins,
  After all, they grab everything that is ideal!
  
  They look at poverty with indifference,
  They want to take everything for themselves!
  This is the measure and value of life,
  To reduce mercy to the number zero!
  
  But the country of the Soviets is large,
  There are no beggars in it, work is in full swing!
  And the evil army rages,
  Seeing the strength of Russia and the shield!
  
  The enemy is churning out both guns and tanks,
  He is accumulating strength, even though people are in need of it!
  Just a request from the granny for alms,
  And the stick trembles in the dirty hand!
  
  But the mighty Father, kind Stalin,
  In the thoughts of the wise for every nation!
  His children and grandchildren are made of steel,
  The time will come for the Red Army!
  
  Then we will throw off the yoke from all nations;
  Let's defeat the abyss of hell - fascism!
  The news will run along the radio wire,
  What communism is marching towards you!
  
  Every German, Frenchman and Chinese,
  The Russian knight has become like a brother to you!
  The ice of death will melt from egoism,
  I believe that doctors will resurrect the dead!
  
  Lenin took a bold step towards progress,
  Stalin is also a worthy leader!
  We will make the rake work,
  Gather your strength into a fist!
  
  If you have to fight for happiness,
  Know that I am a pioneer, be on guard!
  We will polish your shoes to a shine,
  Let's draw a line under our successes!
  The entire plane sang this song in unison. It was so solemn it could have brought tears to my eyes...
  Danka had a couple of easy fights, against a team of boys from Slovenia and then Romania. Both fights resulted in quick knockouts, with knockouts occurring within the first minute! The third fight was tougher. The slender Italian had excellent defense and agility on his feet. He didn't allow himself to be knocked out right away and escaped well. Danka's opponent finished the first round on his feet...
  Then, in the second round, the boy, ignoring the possibility of getting hit with a hard counterpunch himself, simply ran at his opponent, throwing punches with both hands. And he received a precise and swift straight punch, right to the point of his chin.
  For the first time, the young boxer shook, but this only angered Danka. He jumped like a tiger and caught his opponent with a right.
  Vis-a-vis staggered and fell to his knee... The referee counted the knockdown and gave the signal:
  - Boxing!
  The Italian seemed to lose his mobility and, after a swift double punch to the temple and cheekbone, fell, his arms spread out so hopelessly that the referee didn't even count, but stopped the fight immediately. The stands, filled mostly with schoolchildren, whistled and roared. However, high-ranking SS officers were also present. They began resuscitating the fallen boy, while a girl massaged his cheeks and kneaded his neck.
  Danka even got scared:
  - Did I kill him?
  But after a minute of vigorous manipulation, the young boxer's face turned pink, and he opened his eyes. He muttered something quietly. Danka helped him up, and the boy embraced in a friendly hug.
  Oleg, for his part, boxed carefully; the fights were amateurish, with four three-minute bouts. The boy dispatched his first two opponents in the third and fourth rounds. The third proved a challenge. And although Oleg, demonstrating excellent defense, was comfortably ahead on points, a fifth round was called.
  The boys' shirtless, tanned bodies glistened with sweat, their muscles rippled, and their veins and tendons stood out even more clearly. Oleg, the opponent, rushed forward, hoping to win the round if he showed any signs of action. But the brave pioneer noticed his opponent was already tiring, and his reactions were slow. A swift hook to the left side of the chin followed, and the young opponent buckled and fell forward. Apparently, it was a knockout, as he didn't get up at the count of ten.
  After which there was a break; three fights in one day according to the cup system is a lot!
  Danka noted:
  "Professionals fight fifteen rounds, but before the First World War, there were no time limits at all. Boxers fought until one of them collapsed from exhaustion."
  Oleg noted:
  "You know, professional boxing just doesn't appeal to me. In amateur boxing, you just move through the ranks, but in the pros, too much depends on the promoters. For example, they can ruin a very talented boxer by not giving him fights. And champions have the ability to prevent an overly dangerous opponent from fighting. For example, by simply refusing to sign a contract through various delays."
  Danka shook his fist:
  - Just let him try!
  During lunch, the young athletes were fed well... There were even oranges and, for dessert, bananas, coconuts, and mangoes, which Soviet teenage athletes had never tried before.
  Apparently, the Nazi organizers of the competition tried to show that in the Third Reich, everything was fine, very satisfying, and one could afford luxury.
  Danka and Oleg tried coconuts and bananas for the first time, and pineapples for the second time (well, oranges are much easier in the USSR; they have their own in Central Asia!). Here the boys made a fairly common mistake - they overate... And there were no adult coaches on the team... If the Hitler Youth's motto was "Young people should lead young people," then the Soviet sports delegation decided to follow suit.
  Maybe this wasn't the best idea to follow!
  In any case, after a hearty lunch with dessert and cakes, there were still three more fights to be had (if you didn"t lose!)... And with strong guys!
  After eating, the boys were pretty drunk, Oleg even suspected that they had been drugged...
  In any case, the class of young Soviet athletes has now declined, and they have started losing one after another... And the judges and referees have gone completely berserk.
  And the Soviets were already fighting against the Germans...
  Danka felt okay at first, and made it to the quarter-finals in the first round...
  However, already in the semifinals, he felt weakness in his arms and legs... A great weakness and slowness of movement... But Danka held on to his pride and pressed forward despite taking a lot of hits... But the boy had a strong head, and the precise blows of his big, technical, and fast opponent only angered him... And his anger and pride, in turn, allowed him to confidently continue the fight....
  Finally, in the third round, Danka caught his opponent, breaking his nose...
  The German was slightly taken aback and took a punch to the chin. The kid from the Third Reich backed away, his legs stumbling. Danka capitalized on the success, landing a slow, but still powerful, three-pointer. His opponent fell, and the referee began counting the knockdown very slowly. The German boy rose, but his feet were unsteady. Inspired, Danka rushed to finish him off. A few precise swings... The kid goes down.
  The judge doesn't rush to approach him. He asks something off to the side. They answer...
  Another sluggish count begins... At the count of nine, the boy is still down... But the bell sounds for the end of the round. He is picked up and carried to his corner...
  Danka confidently says:
  - There won't be a fourth round! He simply won't make it!
  In this case, the Russian boy turns out to be right, the seconds gave the go-ahead...
  CHAPTER No 9.
  Oleg, for his part, fights as if nothing had happened... He calmly scores points, and then finishes in the fourth round... And his movements are still precise and fast...
  The only Soviet athletes to reach the final were the two of them-representing the youngest age group. The children's super heavyweight and the middleweight... The flyweight champion was injured just hours before his departure, and they couldn't find a replacement in time...
  So, there were only two Russians in the final, and everyone else, of course, were Germans, who would compete for the gold among themselves...
  The competition is being actively filmed... Danka winced in disgust:
  - This is how they want to disgrace us! As if we Russians are worse than Germans and not Aryans at all!
  Oleg shook his head:
  - No! Any division of nationalities into those that are valid and those that are not is absurd in its very formulation. And what's there to say, if our ideas are, by and large, international!
  Danka giggled and agreed:
  - And we will beat them internationally...
  There was, of course, a break before the final fight... And then the Germans played another nasty trick on the Soviet boys... They supposedly offered to polish their sneakers. But the result was that the boys' shoes suddenly softened and began to crumble...
  I had to throw it off and run to wash it in the sink... Danka got seriously angry:
  - Why did they do that? Were they trying to provoke us into a fight and then disqualify us from the competition?
  Oleg quite logically noted:
  "Not only that! They'll also want to show that there's poverty in the USSR, and even leading athletes are forced to compete barefoot. Like, how poor are the children in Russia!"
  Danka suggested:
  - Maybe we should ask our older friends for some sneakers? They'll be too big for you, but I'll have some!
  Oleg shook his head:
  "No, it's not worth it! We'll show them we're capable of winning even under the most difficult conditions. Besides, boys our age aren't ashamed to go barefoot... As they say, a barefoot childhood..."
  Danka clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked. The young boxer said:
  - Well, they made me angry! No, they just made me really angry!
  Oleg replied:
  - So let anger give you and me strength.
  But the ordeal didn't end there... The ring's surface was replaced with spiked iron sheets that dug mercilessly into the boys' bare heels...
  Oleg even yelped, but held on, although he couldn"t stand still, and Danka even started dancing and growling...
  Their opponents were strong, and clearly older than officially announced. For example, Danka's opponent was a head taller than him, and he already had a moustache growing in... But really, can an eleven-year-old really have a moustache?
  Oleg's opponent is also much larger and heavier, and his mug is not a child's gangster.... However, the boy is used to it, the ring is the ring, all sorts of people meet there!
  Both fights took place simultaneously.... We need to finish quickly, midnight is approaching...
  Danka almost immediately started taking heavy punches to the face. His opponent had the advantage of reach and weight, and seemed to be well-prepared, both physically and technically... His muscles were like those of a muscle-bound athlete... Then again, Dimka is very defined and fast... He used to be fast, but now he's slowed down...
  Danka took numerous single and double punches in the very first round. A bruise even began to form under his right eye...
  The second round was even worse, his opponent came forward and punched, punched, punched... And Danka barely defended himself, throwing punches back and occasionally getting to his opponent... He growled in German:
  - So you are not a full-fledged Russian!
  Danka retorted harshly, also in German:
  - And you, a German, will get a full-fledged punishment from a Russian!
  He got furious and hit me in the nose with his elbow...
  Usually Danka's nose was very strong, and it had never been broken, even when it was hit, but in this case it was not a blow softened by a glove, but the sharp edge of a hard elbow bone.
  And the blood flowed down the boy's face, forcing him to lick it off... Danka responded... The enemy shook slightly and staggered...
  The third round was no less tough, with his opponent pressing desperately, but Danka began blocking more often, parrying his blows. The rules for the finals had been changed; since it was an international gold medal fight, the number of rounds was increased to fifteen... Just like a pro. It must be said, a very harsh decision for the teenagers, who had already fought five times that day. However, Dimka finished quickly, and his opponent was clearly getting away with it without much of a fight.
  But after the first four very active rounds, Danka's opponent slowed down somewhat. He, too, was feeling tired, his breathing becoming much more rapid and at the same time heavy...
  Despite the bruises and intense burning sensation in his bare feet, Danka even felt a surge of additional strength. In the sixth round, he even landed several punches to his opponent's jaw... But he, too, was resilient, large, and possibly doped up.
  In the seventh round, Danka's opponent slightly changed tactics and began trying to land as many blows as possible, illegally, with his elbow, or even his head... Danka began landing even more frequently, and in the eighth round, he achieved partial success: juice finally began to flow from his opponent's big nose... And when his opponent threw another elbow, he himself ran into a counter-punch... Danka growled at him:
  - Well, what happened to the one who bit!
  The German got even more carried away, he was still counting on a separate through hook!
  Oleg fought more evenly, barely missing a beat, and, taking advantage of his opponent's overly wide swings, met his chin with a left jab or a right cross. But the big German kid didn't react to these punches. Then Oleg changed tactics and began working his opponent's flattened nose. The German's sniffer held up for a long time, but by the seventh round it began to leak.
  It should be noted that Oleg's opponent was a replacement for another, lighter, fairer-skinned boy. The previous one was apparently injured (though, of course, that was a Nazi ruse!)... So he was fresh at the start of the fight and could push the pace at a breakneck pace.
  But in the ninth round, Oleg, too, was slightly distracted and missed a blow that knocked him off his feet. The boy's bare, bruised legs flailed helplessly. Oleg, however, quickly got up to avoid a knockout. He lunged forward and hung on his opponent.
  He shook him off, rushing to finish him off... The horn sounded to end the ninth round, but the referee pretended not to hear...
  Oleg took a few hard blows, but held on, softening them with a head shake. His opponent was in full swing, smashing away, oblivious. Then the Soviet boy, reflexively but powerfully, threw a punch to the body... The blow landed right on the liver... A very dangerous hit...
  The opponent made a few more swings, and his large face turned purple. He gasped for air, fell forward, and began writhing. The referee immediately stopped the fight, and doctors rushed into the ring. It soon became clear that Oleg's opponent was in no condition to continue the fight, and he was carried away on a stretcher, receiving an IV.
  This had a brutal effect on Danka, and he went on the offensive against a visibly exhausted opponent... Rounds ten, eleven, twelfth... A brutal exchange of blows, but with Danka clearly in the lead... The thirteenth round evened out somewhat, thanks to the German's desperate attack, while the Soviet boy suffered a cut eyebrow... But in the fourteenth, Danka regained control. These guys didn't know anything about Muhammad Ali, for example, yet they largely copied his tactics.
  By the fifteenth round, the German's arms had sagged from exhaustion, and he no longer reacted to the blows, simply standing there, demonstrating his Aryan fortitude. Furthermore, Danka's normally devastating blows, spurred by the drug and sheer fatigue, were much weaker. But there were many, many of them, and they rained down on his opponent's exposed chin. Finally, the German's mind gave out, his endurance exhausted, and this representative of the "Aryan" nation simply slid down like dirt, about fifteen minutes before the end of the final round.
  The referee began counting indecently slowly, but after the count of five, seeing how terribly agile Danka"s opponent was, he stopped and shouted:
  - Call the doctor quickly!
  And yet another young "superhuman" was taken to the hospital... After which the victorious finalists lined up in a column and began to march... Rose petals rained down from above.
  Danka was smiling broadly, enjoying himself. But then he suddenly noticed the camera had moved closer to them, filming a close-up of the Soviet boys' bare feet, badly punctured by thorns and slightly bleeding. His mood immediately soured, and he tried to hide his limbs behind the luxurious gold-trimmed sneakers of the other young German athletes or bury them in the petals.
  Oleg tugged at his hand:
  - Don't bother! Your embarrassment will be precisely what will cause laughter and doubt... Besides, in Germany, after the declaration of total war, almost all the children are walking around barefoot, as you yourself have seen on the streets of Berlin. So straighten your back proudly.
  The medals they were awarded were on brown ribbons and made of real gold, weighing approximately fifty grams and of 900 fineness. Of course, for Soviet boys, this was a large sum-approximately... It's hard to even calculate, as Soviet money was officially backed by gold, but in reality, it was issued without any gold reserves.
  As the Soviet Pioneers ascended the platform, the USSR anthem played. Incidentally, this wasn't Alexandrov's music yet, but something like the Internationale. Oleg felt a great inspiration and asked permission to sing...
  Himmler, who was present at the competition, graciously allowed:
  - We will be very glad to hear the composition of our guests from Great Russia.
  Oleg bowed first to the right and then to the left, after which he and Danka began to sing:
  Through life, you are a knight, you fly like an arrow,
  After all, the hands of time are a big propeller!
  That you didn't get a meager pine cone;
  Don't pass within the target!
  
  The world around us - sometimes spring blooms,
  And autumn covers the trees with gold!
  And it seems that nonsense is a disaster,
  That man deserves a generous share!
  
  But nature, alas, is not our mother;
  She is stern, her faces frowning in anger!
  How often do people have to suffer,
  Sometimes success comes through wild pain!
  
  However, the fighter is too young for that,
  Decided to go on a hike - to decide my destiny!
  So that man may become the father of all that exists,
  May everyone receive their own peculium-kingdom!
  
  And if the battle becomes difficult,
  And the burden will exceed the limits of strength!
  Let him become a knight, it's all the same,
  There is no need to spare your spirit and body!
  
  The steeper the takeoff, the more painful the crash;
  But whoever predicts trouble for me will be beaten!
  I used to only command the muse,
  Now the days of the Earth and the nights are under our control!
  
  After all, progress gives us such power,
  You were an ant, now you're cutting mountains!
  And let the cunning demon play in the heart,
  We will conquer the vastness of the universe!
  
  Our main enemy is, of course, selfishness,
  After all, the betrayal of people is hidden in it!
  Communism can make us better;
  Why not stay at the trough hole!
  
  One lot gave to all Russian people,
  The expanse of heaven has been watered with dew by the stars!
  That the Motherland is your highest ideal,
  Serve valiant Russia without fear!
  Oleg and Danka jumped higher at the last words, thereby further enhancing the impression of their song.
  The stands whistled and applauded enthusiastically...
  These are the kinds of adventures Oleg had in certain universes and missions. At first glance, it seems like so what if you became the Third Reich's boxing champion, especially among children. But on the other hand, morally, it means more than killing thousands of soldiers.
  Especially for whom? For these Boers? The descendants of the Germans who abused blacks. And did they expect Hitler to win during World War II?
  And they not only waited, some even volunteered to fight in the SS divisions.
  Oleg sang with a sigh:
  The vast expanses of Africa,
  There is enough room for everyone under the peaceful sky...
  Why bring discord between countries with blood,
  Why destroy and kill people?
  The boy picked up his pace and found himself near the camp of the battalion of young men.
  Paul and Jean Grandet, and the younger brother and sister of the Boer family, were already there. Oleg informed them, exclaiming:
  - Many hundreds of enemies have been killed, and even more remain!
  Jean nodded and replied:
  "It's time for us to raid again. If we were going to blow up the bridge and destroy the supply system, that's what we should do!"
  Edik confirmed:
  "I saw Olezhka actively knocking out the enemies. You're a real angel of death!"
  Stella sang:
  A midnight angel was flying across the sky,
  I was amazed at how much evil reigns in the world...
  A silvery stream with running water,
  I know it from the river bed itself!
  And the girl took and stamped her bare, chiseled, childish foot, tanned and small.
  There were children here, many not even teenagers. Jean looked about fourteen. His face was so youthful and tender that Oleg wondered if the English had mistaken him for a girl when Grande escaped from captivity in women's clothing. The story, it must be said, was quite amusing. Oleg himself thought that being immortal and so strong and fast was certainly nice. But not nearly as interesting. So try taking a boy warrior prisoner. And sometimes you feel utter melancholy within.
  Jean, captain of the battalion of youngsters, ordered:
  - We're leaving!
  And the four boys and the girl once again rushed toward the bridge. They now had the idea of taking a more circuitous route to avoid a clash with the British.
  Oleg, immortal and without a pony, ran a little ahead. He had nothing to fear, after all. He was somewhat reminiscent of the hero in the Brandon Lee film "The Crow," who also couldn't be harmed by either bullet or dagger.
  Or maybe even better, since he was protected by a raven that could be shot, and he was even shot. And Oleg Rybachenko is protected by the Russian Gods, led by the Almighty, Omnipresent, Eternal, and Pre-eternal, All-Seeing and All-Knowing Rod!
  The boy ran ahead of everyone. His bare soles were slightly green from the grass. The warrior boy raced and sang with delight:
  The boy lived in the twenty-first century,
  He dreamed of conquering space...
  That the Fatherland has legions of forces,
  Quasars will illuminate the capital!
  
  But the boy immediately became a time traveler,
  And on the front lines of the world fire...
  There is melting, torn metal,
  And it seems that there is no living place!
  
  The boy was always used to living in luxury,
  When bananas and pineapples are everywhere...
  Well, now here's the problem,
  It's as if you've found yourself a Judas!
  
  It rumbles, fiery thunder is heard,
  A storm of flashes flew across the sky...
  I believe the Wehrmacht will be defeated,
  Because the heart has the courage of a boy!
  
  Born to fight, consider from the nursery,
  We guys really love to fight bravely...
  You, the Wehrmacht, that is rushing forward in a horde, smash it,
  And make Hitler a pathetic clown!
  
  For the Motherland, for Stalin's sons,
  They stood up, clenching their fists tighter...
  But we are cool eagle knights,
  We will be able to drive the Fuhrer beyond the Vistula!
  
  Know this is the power of pioneers,
  That nothing in the world can compare to her...
  We will soon build a paradise in the universe,
  The holy faces from the icons will bless!
  
  We will give our hearts to our Motherland,
  We love our Fatherland very much...
  Above us is a radiant cherub,
  We ourselves will be judges of fascism!
  
  Now the enemy is rushing straight to Moscow,
  And the boy is barefoot in the snowdrift...
  I will stop that horde, I believe,
  They won't cut the girl's hair, I know braids!
  
  I became a pioneer very quickly,
  And the boy will have the will of steel...
  After all, our heart is like titanium metal,
  And the main leader is the all-wise genius Stalin!
  
  I am a pioneer, I run barefoot in winter,
  And my heels turned red in the frost...
  But Hitler will be crushed with a scythe,
  And let's give a kiss to the scarlet rose!
  
  Believe me, for Russia we are eagles,
  And we won"t let the Fuhrer through to the capital...
  Although Satan's forces are strong,
  I believe we'll soon skin Adolf alive!
  
  We have such a power - all people,
  We children fight for justice...
  And Hitler is a notorious villain,
  And he will not receive mercy from the people!
  
  We have a very powerful machine gun for you,
  What shoots so accurately at the fascists...
  Lead the fire and there will be results,
  Victory will come in radiant May!
  
  We will make the Fatherland above the stars,
  We will soon raise the red flag over Mars...
  For God Jesus Christ is with us,
  This Name will be in glory forever!
  
  But Stalin is also a brother to the pioneers,
  Although the children are much braver than the older ones...
  The boy has a well-aimed machine gun,
  He shot off the fascists' towers!
  
  Although the snowdrifts were piled high,
  A boy fights the Fritz barefoot...
  It's not hard for him to kill a fascist,
  At least he passes the exam, it"s a strict one, of course!
  
  And the boy also calculated the letter,
  The Nazi was shot and cut down precisely...
  There is a flame in the heart and the metal is burning,
  The Fuhrer will not allow disinformation about the Fatherland!
  
  And you love your homeland,
  She is like a mother to all peoples, you know...
  I love Jesus and Stalin,
  And give the Fuhrer a good beating!
  
  Well, the fascist onslaught has already dried up,
  It looks like the Nazis are running out of steam...
  Hitler will get a punch in the snout,
  And we will sing under this clear sky!
  
  Your boy ran around in shorts all winter,
  And I didn"t even notice a runny nose...
  I don"t understand what it is about a cold,
  Sometimes children get too sick!
  
  In spring it is already very easy to fight,
  It's nice to splash through puddles until the end...
  They sat down in the boat, taking the oar,
  What was very interesting for us!
  
  To fight and dare for the Motherland,
  We pioneers will be very bold...
  Passing exams with only A's,
  To quickly get yourself out into the world!
  
  I believe that fighters will come to Berlin,
  Although the war is not going too smoothly...
  We will conquer the vastness of the universe,
  However, things aren't going well for the little one yet!
  
  Although of course in war it is always,
  Every bush is filled with danger...
  But there will be a pioneer dream,
  The barefoot boy is very nimble!
  
  He hits the fascists with precision, boy,
  Because a pioneer has honor in his heart...
  The Fuhrer will receive a blow to his forehead,
  And we will punish the rest as an example!
  
  Whatever I can do, I will do, you know,
  After all, Russians are invincible in battle...
  Let's build a red paradise in the universe,
  The people are forever united with the party!
  
  And believe me, our enemies will not erase us,
  We will perform a miracle like giants...
  Break the shackles of the universe,
  And Hitler is a vile Judas!
  
  The years will pass, the times will come,
  Saint in the boundlessness of communism!
  And Lenin will be with us forever,
  We will crush the yoke of fascism!
  
  How well Christ will resurrect everyone,
  And if it doesn"t come, then science...
  After all, man has grown to power,
  Life is not easy, brothers, you know that!
  
  The greatness of the Fatherland will be in that,
  That everyone, without knowing it, fell in love with her...
  The greatness of the holy country is in one thing,
  To the boundless and most radiant Russia!
  
  I'm a pioneer while her boy,
  And believe me, I don"t want to grow up...
  I will see many different countries soon,
  And I will drive the Fuhrer and his horde into the swamp!
  
  You too, be fighters with courage,
  That our faith will become stronger than steel...
  The fathers are proud of the pioneers,
  The hero's star was given by Comrade Stalin!
  
  In short, the military thunder will die down,
  We will work furiously at the construction site...
  After all, communism is a strong monolith,
  The village is as beautiful as the capital!
  
  And I admit I"m even very glad,
  That I have been in hell and in fire...
  Now it's so proud to take the parade,
  Generous is the Fatherland in endless glory!
  CHAPTER No 10.
  This is the song performed by warrior boy Oleg Rybachenko. It's not quite appropriate, but I must admit, it's a good and catchy ditty.
  Life is good, though. My conscience torments me-why are you killing people? It's an unpleasant feeling. After all, what does this Anglo-Boer War mean to the world? Not very good guys, against not very good guys. And what does it matter to them? And what does Captain Jean Grandier of the Battalion of Young Puppies care? Indeed, a Frenchman got involved in this war. Perhaps it's not entirely fair on Britain's part, although the goal is clear-to connect communications and railways in South Africa. But then, Tsarist Russia also waged wars as an invader and an imperialist. Especially the conquest of the Caucasus. Even in Soviet times, that is, in the early days when Leninism reigned, Iman Shamil was considered a positive hero.
  But when Leninism began to replace Stalinism, the USSR's policies became overtly imperial. Both Peter the Great and Ivan the Terrible became progressive and more positive than negative tsars. Soon, Peter the Great was even canonized in Soviet subculture.
  Peter the Great also started a war with Sweden-it was his attack and siege of Narva. Before that, this same tsar had fought Turkey, besieging Azov twice. The second time, he managed to take it by starvation, thanks to a naval blockade.
  Although Peter the Great publicly condemned Alexander the Great for his desire to conquer the entire world, emphasizing that he sought to seize only what Russia needed, even what was essential. And access to the sea was essential. But then, toward the end of his reign, Peter the Great sent troops to Azerbaijan and Persia, seizing lands in the south. These lands, in general, weren't particularly necessary for Russia. Moreover, due to the remoteness and the lack of communication, holding on to what had been conquered was more difficult than conquering it. And Russia lost these territories.
  So Peter the Great was an imperial predator, not averse to grabbing whatever he could get his hands on. Even the entire world. And this despite the war with Sweden lasting twenty-one years.
  Oleg jumped and spun into a somersault...
  They were approaching the bridge. Sure, there were guards and barbed wire around it, but that wouldn't stop a sabotage group of young brats.
  I remembered how the partisan Lara once went on reconnaissance. The girl wore a torn dress and was barefoot. And not only in summer, but also in early spring and late fall. Her dress even froze to the grass. But the girl boldly splashed along the road with her dusty, bare heels. She was confident and beautiful. And, of course, she showed off her level of love, strength, and spiritual beauty.
  The girl's bare feet are a special symbol of art. And she has achieved much.
  Oh, Lara. When you were captured by the Nazis, you, a girl of about fourteen, were led from village to village, barefoot through the snow. Then they took you to the torture chamber. There, barefoot, frostbitten, the soles of your feet roughened from walking without shoes, they greased you with grease and clamped you into stocks. And they started roasting you, lighting a fire under your bare, round, girlish heels.
  Lara gritted her teeth and remained silent. Even though she was in great pain. And the girl's bare soles kept burning and burning.
  But the Nazis also started attaching electrodes to the teenage girl's body to administer electricity. And that, too, was extremely painful.
  And the barefoot partisan Lara Mikheiko took it and exclaimed:
  The Fuhrer will writhe in hell,
  We'll roast him, pioneers...
  Even if I fall in battle,
  I will become an example for people all over the country!
  By the way, Lara's last name was Mikheiko, so she was obviously Ukrainian. And for Ukrainian children, walking barefoot is natural. Although Lara had come from Leningrad to visit her grandmother for the holidays, she was clearly not too accustomed to measuring the ground with bare, childish soles.
  Oleg jumped up and did a seven-fold somersault.
  And again the boys sang:
  Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake,
  These grannies have gone crazy!
  The children ate porridge and drank yogurt!
  Jean de Grandier noted:
  - It's time to climb the nearest tree, the tallest one, and survey the area around the bridge.
  Paul confirmed with a smile:
  - It's possible, but we have a super guy, maybe he'll try to kill everyone single-handedly.
  Oleg nodded in agreement with his light, cropped head:
  - I'm always ready!
  Edik nodded with a smile:
  - We boys are so tough! We'll literally cut and tear everyone apart! And have a real ruckus!
  Stella chirped:
  - We will go into battle against the enemy and defeat them!
  Oleg nodded and, jumping from the tree, exclaimed:
  More action - less talk!
  More action - less talk!
  Be prepared - always ready!
  And the boy warrior ran into battle, his bare, pink heels flashing. In his hands were two sabers, which he had sharpened beforehand.
  And he just takes it and cuts into the enemy ranks, literally crushing and cutting down the enemies.
  The boy jumped through the barbed wire with one jump, and the severed heads of the English soldiers flew.
  And the young warrior suddenly became enraged. And he began to cut and shred everyone like cabbage. And his sabers were the spitting image of a ninja sword.
  Oleg remembered how girls had once fought in slightly different theaters of military operations.
  Oleg Rybachenko and Margarita Korshunova, along with four legendary girls, made it out of Tula and to Moscow.
  The capital's situation was now dire. The Germans were already completing their encirclement, leaving a corridor thirty to forty kilometers long that was growing narrower with each passing day.
  Six warriors took up defensive positions on the outskirts of Moscow. A fierce assault was underway.
  Oleg Rybachenko fired and sang to himself:
  - The future is ours!
  And the boy throws a grenade with his bare foot and continues:
  - And we will be great!
  Margarita Korshunova shoots and screams:
  - And I will become the coolest!
  And with his bare foot he throws a lethal grenade.
  And throws opponents in different directions.
  And then, already in battle, Natasha, who will mow down the Germans with a machine gun and throw a gift of death with her bare foot.
  This is what this woman is like...
  In 1941, Natasha fled the Brest Fortress. She was heading east. Her new shoes quickly rubbed her feet, so she took them off and went barefoot.
  For a couple of hours, it was fine, but then my bare soles started itching. A couple more hours later, they were burning and exploding with pain.
  Natasha, being a Muscovite, wasn't used to walking barefoot. So, naturally, she dipped her feet in the stream every now and then.
  Yes, it was torture for her legs. But the young girl quickly got used to it.
  Then I always walked barefoot, even in the snow, and only put on shoes in severe frost.
  Now Natasha fights like a legendary goddess.
  And here Zoya is throwing a grenade with her bare foot and roaring:
  - This is a super date!
  And he will give a well-aimed burst.
  And the Germans and their mercenaries fall.
  And then Angelica leads the fire... And she also shoots so wildly accurately.
  And a grenade also flies from her bare leg.
  And scatters the mercenaries.
  Then Svetlana takes over, firing. And her bare foot throws out such a blast that no one can resist.
  And scatters opponents very far.
  He shoots himself and crushes his enemies with the blast wave.
  These are the kind of girls who were born in the USSR!
  Oleg Rybachenko fires accurately at enemy infantry, throwing grenades automatically with his childish feet. And at the same time, the boy makes up his own stories.
  Vitali Klitschko, facing a conflict with new Ukrainian President Zelenskyy, has decided to resign as Kyiv mayor. Indeed, why be stubborn and cling to the position? It's better to resolve the issue yourself.
  After leaving his mayoral post, Vitali Klitschko resumed his career. And immediately, a sensation: he challenged Weider to a fight. No interim fights! And this after more than eight years.
  Wilder, of course, agrees. Challenge accepted!
  And now comes the moment of truth. On one side is a multiple world champion, unbeaten for over twelve years. On the other, a forty-nine-year-old former mayor of Kyiv. A man who could break Hopins' record, but whose athletic form is highly questionable.
  In fact, many thought that going straight to Weider after such a long break would be suicide.
  But Vitali Klitschko, like Rocky Balboa, decided to go up against the most powerful puncher in the heavyweight division. Denotey Weider-a boxer who's knocked down every opponent. Absolutely everyone-including Tyson Fury!
  So what if Vitali Klitschko has a chance?
  But Vitali Klitschko trained constantly, kept in shape, and rode his bike to work. And, of course, he wasn't all that bad physically. And he had a steel chin, too.
  Well, Vitali Klitschko will accept the fight, even if he is not the favorite.
  Oleg Rybachenko changed the machine gun magazine. The prospect of boxing matches is exciting.
  So, really, why doesn't Vitali Klitschko return to the ring and try to break Hopins' record?
  That would be a very powerful idea.
  The boy-terminator fired a burst and mowed down several dozen more fascists.
  After which the boy laughed and stuck out his tongue, saying:
  - I am a super person!
  Margarita threw two lemons tied together with her bare foot and squeaked:
  - You are cooler than anyone!
  Oleg, continuing to shoot, reasoned...
  Vitali Klitschko, at forty-nine, was indeed planning to break Hopins' record. He even remarked at a press conference: "I said I wasn't going to break Foreman's record, but I never said anything about Hopins! So I'm going to go ahead and break his record!"
  However, while a significant portion of the public still had some faith that Hopins, at forty-eight, could win the world title, there was far less faith in Vitali Klitschko, at forty-nine. Partly because his opponent was so strong.
  There's never been such a puncher in the history of the heavyweight division. True, Weider is no longer young, but he's still thirty-five, not forty-nine.
  Vitali Klitschko, however, clearly remains optimistic. He's training hard and getting back into shape. And he's very happy to be out of the rut of being Kyiv's mayor.
  Indeed, it is not a great joy to be a mayor in Ukraine, where there are so many problems.
  But Vitali Klitschko was offered a pretty good payday for the fight with Wyder. So, at least he got his money's worth. Vitali Klitschko is a well-known name.
  Evil tongues even said that Wider would hit him once, and Vitali Klitschko would go down. Then he'd get paid and write memoirs or fiction.
  Or maybe he'll even act in a movie.
  Incidentally, Vladimir Klitschko also wanted to box. But the cunning Vladimir chose a weaker opponent among the regular world champions. But no matter how you look at it, he's a champion, and that's cool!
  But no matter how you look at it, Denotey Weider is still the best of the best!
  But Vitaly trains with a passion. He's pushing himself to the limit like a young man. He's had several sparring sessions, demonstrating excellent form and decent stamina. No, Vitaly is ready. And he's not just stepping into the ring.
  And indeed, when judgment day arrived, the greatest knockout artist, Weider, the best heavyweight in the world, faced off against Vitali, the former mayor of Kyiv, who everyone had already written off as a boxer. But then, two legendary figures came together.
  Vitaly, who became world champion for the very first time back in 1999. Just think how long ago that was, and more than twenty years have passed since that event.
  Weider has held his title for a very long time now. He's also close to breaking Holmes's record for the longest reign since the belts were split.
  And of course, if Wider fears anyone, it's not Grandpa Vitaly. After all, not everyone can be a Hawkins. And Hawkins' opponents aren't as powerful as Wider!
  But Vitaly steps into the ring as a contender. His body is still magnificent and muscular, though his hair is already graying. Grandpa Vitaly, as he's called, either respectfully or derisively. But his muscle definition is that of a younger man.
  Vitaly declared himself ready. And even for him, the stakes were raised a bit.
  Weider is also lean, defined, and has thinner bones, weighing less.
  Despite being a formidable knockout artist, he has some defensive issues, and he's not always very good on the feet. But he has a lot of fighting experience. He's already matched Vitali in the number of fights he's had. And he's undefeated yet.
  However, Vitali Klitschko also lost his two fights only due to injuries and cuts. And one could say he wasn't beaten either.
  But more than eight years have passed, and he's almost fifty years old. If Vitali were younger, he'd certainly have a chance. But can he break Hopins' record? David Haye, at thirty-five, is already a no-win boxer.
  But there's a lot of talk, and only the ring will tell. Will Vitali Klitschko break Hoppins's record, or will he be carried away on a stretcher, as Weider promised?
  Here he comes out in a raven mask. Tall, very thin, even skinny like Koschei.
  A pair of boxers gave him serious problems in the ring. They were Cuban Ostrix, who was ahead on points and beat the knockout artist, and Tyson Fury, who was also ahead on points and managed to draw the fight. So the greatest of knockout artists could lose.
  But the odds are almost one in ten in Wider's favor. Vitali is still too old and has had a long break in his career. Even his brother, Vladimir, advised him to warm up with a couple of solid mid-card fighters. Indeed, in Germany, Vitali Klitschko could have earned more money fighting a mediocre boxer, purely on the strength of his name.
  Vitali is known throughout the world not only as a boxer, but also as a politician, the mayor of the capital, and a hero of the Maidan.
  No, Vitali Klitschko in any case should have thought about whether it was worth rushing and pushing against such a mountain.
  But the choice has been made: Vitali Klitschko is not looking for easy ways!
  The battle takes place in America. The American and Ukrainian anthems are played. Service records are announced. And finally, the signal to fight sounds.
  Many people want to see spectacle and blood.
  Weider started cautiously, though perhaps he was wrong. What if Vitali was a bit rusty? Klitschko Sr. wasn't rushing either. But it was immediately clear he was light on his feet, lean, muscular, and well-balanced. In any case, what many expected-that he'd immediately start to float-didn't happen.
  Klitschko confidently worked the jab, held a little higher than usual, and set up blocks.
  The first two rounds were quiet. Then, as expected, Weider picked up the pace. He began attacking and attacking more aggressively. But Vitali didn't lose his cool. He blocked the punch and countered with a left jab. And then, unexpectedly, during a sharp attack, he landed a right hand to the body. Weider doubled over in pain.
  Vitaliy performed a double takedown, and for the second time in his career, the world champion and the best knockout artist of all time found himself on the floor.
  Vitaly smiled... And the crowd roared with delight. They didn't expect this from old man Vitaly. Wow! And it seems like he's almost fifty! And he can still move and hit like that! You have to know how to do that!
  Weider rose but began to back away. Vitali, meanwhile, began to slowly sting him with his jab. And another two-punch. And landed again. The knockout artist backed away.
  With difficulty, Weider lasted until the end of the round. Then, in the next, Vitali was in charge. But no matter, everything went according to plan. For several rounds, Weider retreated and looked helpless. But in the ninth, he exploded again. They started throwing punches and he went forward. And then he took another double-header and went down. A second knockdown.
  Vitaly smiles. He moves forward. Weider stands unsteadily. He misses another double, unable to find an antidote. And falls from another blow.
  He gets up with difficulty, and the referee stops the fight!
  Victory! Vitali Klitschko is now world champion! And the belt is his again! True, he's not undisputed yet, but he's already on top!
  He broke Hoppins' record, and of course, Foreman's record for heavyweights, becoming world champion for the fourth time, equaling Holyfield.
  Weider, of course, shouts that the fight was stopped too early and demands a rematch.
  Vitaliy says he'll decide later whether to continue his career or fight a few more times. But everyone tells him he's very good, even better than in his youth, and he needs to keep going.
  Besides, there's nothing else to do right now. Kyiv has a different mayor, and the parliamentary and presidential elections are still a long way off, so why not have a fight?
  For the next three fights, Vitaly is being offered a whopping one hundred million dollars, plus a percentage of the broadcast revenue.
  Of course, the jackpot is big, and the former mayor of Kyiv says he will think about it.
  He's truly shown that he's still capable of so much. So why bury his talent? And most importantly, there's nothing else to do anyway!
  Maybe we should try to unite all the belts? That would be so cool!
  Vitaly accepts the offer and signs a contract for three more fights.
  And his next opponent... Well, Tyson Fury, of course! Never beaten, a big heavyweight. True, he's been knocked down by Uydar and a few smaller fighters. And most importantly, he's also the one who bullied his younger brother. How could he not fight someone like that?
  Of course, a new fight, a fabulous fee, and an excellent spectacle.
  Oleg Rybachenko is firing at the Germans and foreign fighters again. There are indeed almost no Germans in the infantry. They're moving behind the E-50 and E-75 tanks. And they're trying to avoid taking risks.
  Somewhere in the distance, a Panther-2 can be seen. This tank, unlike in real life, appeared back in 1943. The Panther itself wasn't very widespread. And while quite a few Panther-2s were produced, in 1945, in preparation for war with the USSR, the Germans filled their factories with E-50 and E-75 tanks.
  Despite the practicality of the light self-propelled guns E-10 and E-25, the Führer preferred heavier tanks. With difficulty, Guderian persuaded them to make the high-speed E-50 the most widely produced. The Führer, however, preferred the E-75, which turned out to be less than successful and weighed ninety tons.
  But now a modification, the E-75 M, has appeared, with a lower profile, lighter weight, and a more powerful engine. It may become the most widely produced version in the future.
  Oleg Rybachenko, for example, uses a clever tactic. He takes a grenade and throws it with his bare foot into the E-50's tread. This causes the tank to turn and collide with its colleague.
  And the result is two mastodons burning.
  Oleg, as we can see, is very cunning.
  That's how he operates now, and the Germans are suffering heavy losses. The boy has nimble feet. It's good to be like him, barefoot and handsome.
  But generally, thoughts about boxers come to mind. For example, why shouldn't Denis Lebedev revive his career? Forty years isn't that long. Especially since his main competitors in the heavyweight division have retired, and they could try to unify the belts.
  What you really shouldn't do is be a flunky for the authorities. It's better to take up noble boxing yourself or join the opposition.
  It's like how Sergei Kovalev became mayor of Moscow. Although that's just fiction.
  Denis Lebedev could be doing something more constructive. Besides, it's a bit early to retire from boxing unbeaten. A true athlete must see it through to the end.
  Vladimir Klitschko could also make a comeback. But some, like Alexander Ustinov, have already been beaten three times in a row and are not retiring!
  Truly, these heroes are not people, but made of steel!
  But let's imagine this scenario: Putin crashed his plane, and there are new presidential elections in Russia.
  And what do we see today? The Communists have no strong candidates. Grudin has been disgraced, and his credibility has been undermined. Zyuganov is too old and boring, and lacks charisma. Suraikin failed in the previous elections. Others are little-known figures. Zhirinovsky is also too old and boring. The others in the LDPR are little-known. Who else can be recommended from the opposition? Andrei Navalny is strong, but he won't be allowed to run. Ksenia Sobchak is not a serious candidate. Demushkin has served time in prison and is not particularly popular. Udaltsov was also imprisoned, although perhaps he could have run, with the support of the Communists.
  In short, there aren't any serious competitors in sight in the opposition. Medvedev, the acting president, is still the front-runner. And if there's any intrigue, it's a runoff or a first-round vote.
  Given Medvedev's low rating and the likely large number of presidential candidates, a second round is entirely possible.
  However, Medvedev will have a very large advantage in the first round, and a not very respectable opponent in the second.
  Although at the very last moment, his own Zelensky might appear and ruin everything!
  Oleg Rybachenko threw another grenade, pushing back the Nazi tanks. There was much roaring and artillery fire.
  And the earth flies up every now and then, and burns right in the air. And the fragments turn over, melting.
  Oleg says:
  - Glory to our empire!
  Margarita, throwing the killer gift with her bare foot, squeaked:
  -Great glory to the heroes!
  And again the girl will toss the lemon with her bare heel.
  The fascists are pouring in, oh how they are pouring in.
  There's no way they can be stopped or defeated, even with a vacuum bomb! These warriors are so badass, it's just terrifying!
  Oleg roars:
  - Our victory in the holy war!
  Margarita confirmed:
  - With a hundred percent guarantee!
  And again the girl threw a grenade with her bare foot.
  No, these kids clearly won't just give up.
  Oleg Rybachenko roared:
  - For the new Soviet order!
  Margarita actively fired the burst and confirmed:
  - Banzai!
  CHAPTER No 11.
  After the shooting and fighting, Oleg Rybachenko moved on. He no longer wanted to kill the English. But how else could he neutralize them? Maybe, instead of killing them, he could, for example, turn them into little boys as part of a mission? That would be pretty cool! All he needs to do is get his hands on a non-commissioned chronoblaster. And such a weapon would be fantastic. He could turn adults into children by rewinding their bodies back in time.
  And you can imagine it. Boys of about ten have sweet, gentle faces, unlike the rough, stubbled faces of grown men.
  But how to get the Unter-Chronoblaster?
  The boy genius didn't know this. Unless he just prayed. To whom? To the Russian Gods, of course! Maybe they'll send you a similar superblaster, or more accurately, a chronoblaster. With it, you can truly conquer the world!
  And the boy Oleg, choosing a more comfortable spot, knelt down and began to pray. He didn't want to kill people anymore.
  But at that moment, alas, the war between the British and the Boers continued. It should be noted that Britain, which already had countless colonies, had no need of these lands. They were comparatively small, and their mineral reserves weren't particularly rich: large gold and diamond deposits were nearby, but in other locations.
  The Boers calculated that heavy losses would fuel public opinion in England, suggesting that the game wasn't worth the candle. And that it wasn't worth sacrificing so many soldiers for this territory Britain absolutely didn't need.
  And so the young men continued to believe that, despite the disproportionate number of resources, victory would be with the Boers.
  Incidentally, Oleg Rybachenko remembered the war in Chechnya under Yeltsin. There, too, the balance of power and resources was completely hopeless for the Chechens. But they managed to win, although not by defeating the Russian troops, they did manage to turn the overwhelming majority of Russian public opinion against the war. And indeed, the Russian army withdrew from Chechnya, effectively handing it over to separatist control.
  So there was a chance.
  So Paul, Jean Grandet and Fanfan, Eddie and Stella-they began firing from behind an ambush at the English cavalry. All these losses will certainly have an impact. Especially if it's not Arabs and blacks who die, but the English-though they're a pity.
  The children's team was very aggressive, firing at a rate of one shot per second.
  And so many British warriors fell slain. And yet the child warriors acted with extraordinary energy and precision.
  Jean Grandet took and sang:
  Burgundy, Normandy, Champagne or Provence,
  Warm the hilt in your palm more often...
  May God grant that this song, my friend, be about you,
  We shed blood violently in battle!
  The team really did get going. And now the children's team is acting extremely effectively.
  But Oleg Rybachenko doesn't like it. Killing people, especially white people, is extremely unpleasant. And his conscience begins to torment him.
  Killing orcs is another matter entirely-they even look like bears, and quite ugly. And he's an eternal child and extremely aggressive.
  Oleg took it and sang with annoyance:
  How many times can you kill your loved ones?
  After all, believe me, man is born for happiness...
  The mother does not allow her son to go to the front,
  And even in summer there is bad weather during the war!
  Jean Grandet also feels some pangs of conscience. Why did he get involved in this? He really is French, and he really is from Europe, and he's killing Europeans. He got involved in this mess. And what does it matter to him? Well, two Boer republics will become British colonies. And Britain is a civilized country, and it wouldn't be difficult for the Boers to live there.
  At least Paul is a local. He's still just a kid, and he's killed a lot of people. And of course, he doesn't yet fully understand the value of human life. Like kids playing war on a laptop.
  And they're not bothered by the fact that they're killing people by the millions. And they don't cry or even think about it.
  Unlike them, Oleg isn't a child. He only looks like a boy of about twelve. But in reality, he's many years old. He's a magnificent fighter and writer. And he can sing. Right now, he feels a surge of strength within.
  An alternative history came to mind.
  Shortly before the Battle of Kursk, Stalin and Hitler agreed to freeze the conflict. That is, peace was not on the agenda. All military action along the demarcation line would cease and negotiations would begin. Stalin's initial proposal-a peace without annexations or indemnities-did not satisfy the Führer. The Nazis would have had to cede vast territories without a fight, including almost all of Ukraine and Crimea, Moldova, Belarus, the Baltics, and parts of Russia. The Finns would also have to give up territory, including territory they traditionally considered theirs. So the only option that could satisfy both dictators was freezing the conflict.
  Moreover, Stalin also ordered the partisans to cease military operations behind enemy lines. The Nazis, meanwhile, ceased punitive operations and the extermination of Jews and Roma. Overall, this option was a compromise.
  It was probably more advantageous for the Nazis, whose position after Stalingrad had become exceptionally dire. Moreover, the Nazis had lost the Battle of Africa. And the Allies were shifting their military operations to the European continent. However, part of Rommel's corps was still fighting. The fighting froze on May 1st. The Nazis took advantage of this by transferring their aircraft to the Mediterranean and Tunisia. Fierce fighting broke out, and the Nazis managed to close the skies. A bridgehead was maintained in Tunisia. Fierce air battles raged.
  Aircraft production in the Third Reich continued to increase. The powerful Focke-Wulf proved a very problematic fighter for the Allies. Its high dive speed compensated for its poor maneuverability, and its powerful armament allowed it to shoot down an aircraft in a single pass.
  And they also had fairly good frontal armor. The Allies, however, had problems with aircraft cannons. And you can't penetrate the frontal machine guns of a Focke-Wulf. The Germans' main problem-the Allies' numerical advantage-was negated by the redeployment of aircraft from the Eastern Front. Hitler's propaganda, of course, presented the freezing of the conflict as a victory. Especially since large swaths of the USSR remained under occupation. But in the Soviet Union, the freezing of the conflict was also presented as a victory. Although Stalin didn't recapture significant territories, either. The Nazis even retained control of part of the Caucasus: the Taman Peninsula and Novorossiysk. But it was still presented as a major victory against fascism, which had all of Europe on its side, with the US and Britain providing scant support.
  In any case, the Germans were freed from a two-front war. And they turned west. Hitler's first priority was to take control of the Mediterranean. To do this, he needed to take Gibraltar and transport troops to Morocco via the shortest route. And first and foremost, he needed to persuade Franco.
  Hitler held a personal meeting and acted harshly at it, but nevertheless promised Franco lands in Africa, and said quite logically that the battle-hardened Wehrmacht with its new Tiger and Panther tanks would easily pass through Spain.
  There's no need to worry about Britain-it's doomed. So Franco, agree, or they'll put someone more accommodating in your place. Especially since the Wehrmacht has a free hand.
  And so, in June of 1943, German troops, having crossed Spain, stormed Gibraltar. Tigers, Ferdinands, and even a pair of newly produced Sturmtigers took part in the battle. The latter were excellent vehicles for assaults and sieges, equipped with very powerful mortars.
  Gibraltar was not fully prepared to repel an assault by several hundred tanks, including the newest ones. The Tigers, especially, were durable and high-quality vehicles, even if outdated.
  With the rapid fall of Gibraltar, German troops were able to move the shortest distance into Morocco and cut off supplies to the British and Americans in Africa.
  Combat also showed that the Sherman was unable to penetrate the Panther's frontal armor and had significantly inferior gun penetration. Although they have the same caliber-75mm-the Panther's muzzle velocity is significantly higher.
  The systematic seizure of Africa from the Allies began. Meanwhile, the submarine war continued. Submarine production in the Third Reich continued to increase. And so did their quality. And there was no fuel shortage, so the USSR began selling to the Third Reich again. So diesel engines were in use. And soon, a hydrogen peroxide-fueled submarine appeared. It could travel up to thirty-five knots per hour and had a homing torpedo. And things got even worse for the Allies.
  And so, during the summer and fall of 1943, North Africa was captured. The Germans had more powerful tanks, and their aircraft were also superior in armament to the Allies, especially when 30-mm aircraft cannons began to arrive. So things were looking up for the Nazis. Plus, the British and American troops in Africa were having trouble supplying supplies. They were surrendering, especially the Americans, who were showing weakness of spirit too easily. Rommel was in good shape and was crushing the coalition. After Egypt was captured, the Germans moved on to the Middle East. There was oil and other resources there.
  Hitler kept gaining new trump cards. In particular, the Tiger II and Panther II entered production. The latter was a very good vehicle. Weighing fifty-three tons, it had a nine-hundred-horsepower engine and an 88-millimeter 71 EL gun, which could penetrate all tanks at long range, and better armor. The Tiger II was also better than the real-life version, with its 1,000-horsepower engine, which gave it good handling and reduced breakdown rates.
  The Germans advanced through Palestine, then entered Iraq and occupied Kuwait. Victory after victory. And by winter, the entire Middle East was occupied. And then the Germans entered Iran. Stalin agreed not to interfere with the Wehrmacht's seizure of India. And this became a new partition. By May 1944, both India and almost all of Africa were captured by the Germans. And by the fall of that year, Africa was completely captured.
  The Germans had Ju-288s, Ju-488s, TA-400s, and, most importantly, jet aircraft in production. So, they bombed and bombed Britain, and practically destroyed the whole thing.
  Cities in ruins. And so much fire and destruction. In the autumn, the naval bombings and terror continued.
  The Germans simulated landings several times, but have not yet landed.
  And so, on November 8th, the anniversary of the Beer Hall Putsch, the landings began. Fortunately, the weather was favorable, and the British were surprised. The Nazis had developed new E-10 self-propelled guns, weighing nine tons and sporting a four-hundred-horsepower engine, but also well-armored and armed. They had only two crew members, positioned prone, the engine and transmission combined in a single block, transversely, and a height of only one meter and twenty centimeters. This was truly a good solution. A self-propelled gun of this weight could be placed on a powerful aircraft like the Ju-488 or TA-400 and dropped using special chute drops. So this was a powerful know-how. Plus, the Germans had also developed the E-5 self-propelled gun, weighing only four tons and carrying a single crew member. And it was an anti-infantry version with an aircraft cannon and machine guns. And the landing was a success. Even American divisions couldn't help the British. The operation lasted only one week and ended with the capture of London. Moreover, the British capital surrendered without a fight. And that really turned out to be a great thing.
  Then, in December, Iceland was captured. Plan Icarus was executed flawlessly.
  Thus ended 1944. Now Hitler had two options. Either offer the United States peace. Or, despite all the difficulties, make the leap across the ocean. Or conclude an armistice with the United States and attack the USSR again. Hitler wanted the latter more than anything else.
  True, the United States was actively developing an atomic bomb. And that's serious. And there was evidence that it wasn't long before a superweapon emerged.
  And then Stalin proposed a personal meeting with Hitler in neutral Sweden.
  And the Fuhrer agreed; in February, the two dictators met, and negotiations began...
  Stalin proposed fighting together against the United States. However, in exchange, the Germans would have to withdraw from all occupied Soviet territories.
  The Führer resolutely refused. Although he agreed that Stalin could wage war against the United States and even receive Alaska as a gift, there could be no talk of concessions to the Germans or the USSR. The most that was possible was an exchange of territories for the purpose of equalization.
  The two dictators failed to reach an agreement at their personal meeting. However, Stalin proposed holding another meeting on April 20, Hitler's birthday in 1945, to resolve the disputed issues there.
  Meanwhile, the Germans, along with the Japanese, landed in Australia and conquered that dominion as well. The Americans were losing the battle for the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans. German submarines were stronger, and German jet aircraft even more so. For example, the ME-262, when used correctly, is very good and exceptionally difficult to shoot down. And the newest HE-162 is even better and more dangerous. The Germans also landed in Greenland in March. The invasion of Canada was on the way.
  But on April 13, Roosevelt died, and the new US president proposed a truce and a joint war against the USSR to the Third Reich. And what happened? Hitler agreed. And so, on May 15, 1945, a new Nazi offensive against the USSR began, but that's a different story. The Nazis had the latest E-series tanks, jet aircraft, ballistic missiles, and even a wonder weapon-disc-shaped flying discs-on the way. And they were going after Soviet Russia and the United States.
  The immortal boy took and began to sing:
  I am a boy born of the Gods,
  My mother Lada, a powerful Goddess...
  We will bake the most delicious pies,
  My bride will be a duchess!
  
  I am the warrior of the Family - the elder brother Svarog,
  In battles, consider yourself invincible...
  We will break the horn of the evil trolls,
  When the army is united with the demiurges!
  
  Elena is my older sister,
  Fights like a witch made of syrup...
  The great place will be filled,
  When will we see the power of God Rod!
  
  And Zoyka has golden hair,
  She is a renowned fighter from Belobog...
  As he kicks with his bare foot,
  How a demon runs away without a garden bed!
  
  Victoria is the sister of my soul,
  So fiery red-haired devil...
  For Chernobog, crush your enemies,
  And the maiden's voice will be ringing!
  
  Nadezhda is the daughter of Perun,
  He swings his sword like lightning and strikes...
  He is a spark of loyalty to the people,
  Let the evil Cain be destroyed!
  
  Here we are, rushing into battle, five of us,
  Cutting down the army of orcs with swords...
  A fierce defeat awaits them,
  From the Rodoverians - a strong Soltsenist!
  
  We are warriors, you won't find anything cooler,
  Crush the evil orcs with the power of Svarog...
  The girls look to be under twenty,
  But they have lived for many centuries!
  
  They are able to run on water,
  To cut a huge battleship with a sword...
  There is no place for enemies on the holy land,
  And the land will be rich and flourishing!
  
  O Lada of the Russian Mother of the Gods,
  You have woven all the light in the world...
  In the name of our valiant fathers,
  Let there be happiness and peace on the planet!
  
  Here is Jesus, Svarog's brother,
  He went to the cross so that grace would reign...
  Let us bow to the Most Holy Mary,
  After all, together with Lada it"s a great force!
  
  Archangel Michael and the formidable Thor,
  They protect the Fatherland of Light...
  We will put the enemy under the axe,
  The stars shine brightly above the world!
  
  Perun, who was Zeus among the Greeks,
  And the Romans call him Jupiter...
  He sent a sign that Christ is risen,
  And now the ruler of the light power!
  
  And who else is related to me with the Gods,
  Yarilo and the coolest Divan...
  When a boy mounts a horse,
  It was as if they had burned it with turpentine!
  
  Well, why are we chopping down the orcs so quickly?
  We'll throw a grenade and tear them apart...
  And somewhere the servants of Satan are digging.
  To make humanity powerless!
  
  
  But the Black God knows how to protect the Slavs,
  And his club will break bones...
  He will strike such a blow, believe me,
  The enemy will turn blue with anger!
  
  So boy, run furiously,
  A cool kid barefoot in the snow...
  Even if the enemies attack in rage,
  But you have plenty of strength now!
  
  The Almighty Rod created the cosmos,
  He is the One who exists in the universe from the beginning...
  Here a cherub circles over the Fatherland,
  He always gives hope to people!
  
  You make a very bold move, boy,
  Take up your sword and fight fiercely...
  Let the lousy orcs go to waste,
  And win, do not give up in battle!
  
  We have mighty power,
  All Rodoverians are the spirit of Russia...
  And we will be faithful to the light until the end,
  To Christ, Mary, their holy mission!
  
  There are no equals in battle to the daughters of the Gods,
  They swing their swords like helicopters...
  Reality will be cooler than even dreams,
  Soldiers run faster than planes!
  
  Svarog, the blacksmith and warrior of Rod's Son,
  Capable of making a bomb out of a carrot...
  For the God of the Gods of the universe is One,
  Will give people everything - snacks, lots of vodka!
  
  When will the world be a real Paradise,
  All young, beautiful, happy...
  Dream about this in battle,
  The army will become a real team!
  After which he continued writing...
  Only a miracle or a landing force of time travelers can save Stalin and the USSR!
  And here are the very first days of the offensive, the E-50 and E-75, the newest vehicles. And then there are the Tiger-2 and Panther-2, still in production. And the light self-propelled guns from the E series. This is, so to speak, the biggest headache for the Soviet command. The USSR has the newest tank, the IS-3, which has just entered production. There are also the IS-2 and T-34-85. They tried producing the T-44, but it was unsuccessful and soon canceled, switching to the T-54, which they wanted to make powerful, mobile, cheap, not too heavy, and with good protection. German tanks are still stronger than the mass-produced Soviet ones. There are many Panther-2 and Tiger-2 tanks, and they have good frontal protection, decent driving characteristics, and excellent armament. The E series is even better, but it has only just begun to enter service and is not yet in mass production. Just like the IS-3, the only Soviet tank whose front can still withstand the Nazis' formidable 88-mm cannon. But it only began to be released in May.
  So the Germans could launch an offensive on May 15th-just as sowing was ending. And in 1945, they were trying to repeat what they had failed to do in 1941. Specifically, the offensive was conducted in all directions. On the one hand, this dispersed forces. But on the other, the enemy would be forced to disperse reserves. It's a double-edged sword. Moreover, the Nazis had a large number of infantry from foreign and colonial divisions, and they could afford to attack anywhere!
  Hitler also mobilized local forces. Now the Nazis had no money problems, and they could pay handsomely to volunteer former Soviet citizens. Life in the Nazi-controlled territories had also improved significantly after the partisan war had ended. It became clear that people could work and live quite comfortably. The Nazis even began providing tractors and seeds for sowing. They also allowed local self-government, especially in Ukraine, a kind of federation.
  So Stalin ran into some problems on this front, too. There was certainly time to fortify himself. And they dug a fair amount of defense. But all of this needed to be covered by troops. And the front was enormous, plus there was the Finnish one. And Sweden had decided to join the fight-they also wanted Soviet territory.
  And they remembered the glorious Vikings and the wars, especially that of Charles XII. They wanted revenge. And so they launched an offensive in Karelia. Here, bypassing the heavily fortified Soviet positions near Murmansk, a kind of flanking approach.
  In the very first days, the Nazis were able to penetrate the Soviet defenses, but encountered stubborn resistance.
  They've dug countless trenches and ditches. But it's still hard to hold them back.
  There are also minefields, and teletanks are used against them.
  Including radio-controlled ones. Such is the unique combat power.
  The Nazis are actively firing, including with gas projectors. They are acting aggressively. Artillery is also pounding. Soviet troops prefer to take cover in dugouts. Now that's real combat.
  A German Tiger III is trying to advance. Shells are raining down on it at a deadly rate. Anti-aircraft guns are also firing at both air and ground targets.
  The Führer demands that the USSR be dealt with quickly. This is truly a brutal massacre. And bombers are raining down on Soviet positions. Jet attack aircraft are especially dangerous. Fortunately, there are few of them yet. But there is, for example, a two-seater Sova with eight aircraft cannons. Of these, six are 30-millimeter and two are 37-millimeter. This is indescribable power. This machine demonstrates its devastating level of impact.
  And it's also well armored. Stalin gave the order to find a way to counter German attack aircraft. And they're really getting on the Soviet troops. They're literally bombarding them with bombs.
  The female warriors, Albina and Alvina, are already seasoned pilots. They're capable of delivering high-level destruction in their Me-262 jets. So, it's best not to mess with them. Once they get going, it's a complete disaster.
  And they also use bare, chiseled feet in battle. These are the ladies who prefer to fight barefoot and in bikinis. Why do girls need shoes? They're frankly seasoned. And if they get going, even Baba Yaga wouldn't stand a chance against them. Girls who can fly above the rooftops. And they're magnificent warriors. When they hit you, you'll feel the pain.
  And so Albina shoots down a Soviet plane and roars:
  - I'm an evil wolf!
  In response, Alvina also cuts down the IL-10 attack aircraft and squeals:
  - And I'm a tigress!
  But on the Soviet side, there are some aces fighting. Take Anastasia Vedmakova, a simply legendary woman. Try saying no to her - she'll tear you to pieces!
  And the red-haired warrior from the USSR shoots down three Nazi planes in one go and roars:
  - Komsomol is not just an age, Komsomol is my destiny!
  Although she's not exactly a Komsomol member by age, she's already so old that she's simply superb.
  She fought back in the days of Tsar Alexander II. She even lived to see Nicholas I. During the siege of Sevastopol, she was a girl of about ten when it began, and served as a scout. It really was convenient. While the British or French might suspect a boy of being a spy, who would think of a little, barefoot girl? And she wasn't just a scout. Having gained experience, she even began to carry out sabotage against the occupiers.
  The Crimean War was lost by Tsarist Russia, but the Russian troops lost much less than the British, French, Turks, and the soldiers of the Kingdom of Sardinia due to the heroic defense of Sevastopol.
  And now the Witcher, already an adult but not aging lady, fights against an extremely strong opponent and shows her class.
  And don't forget to sing:
  Rus' defended all countries of the world,
  From the plagues of hellish locusts...
  And she covered it with her chest,
  Nations of the planet, peace of the Earth!
  CHAPTER No 12.
  Oleg Rybachenko recalled various stories. Killing Germans is also unpleasant - they're people too, and not bad ones at that, quite similar to the Slavs. Generally, war and killing are disgusting. Even in computer games. Although they are exciting. But when you're waging war on a computer, you realize that those aren't real people, but bits of information. And when you imagine yourself in a real situation and inflicting pain and death on a living person, you become disgusted with yourself.
  Oleg therefore imagined something else, for example, peaceful, without killings and destruction.
  For example, in the distant future, all of humanity united. A vast republic emerged, encompassing a vast number of planets. People stopped getting sick and aging, and could theoretically live for many thousands of years. Computer technology developed incredibly. And there was no longer a need for work-it was all replaced by artificial intelligence. Intelligent life in the universe was rare, despite the vast number of planets. And humanity was not threatened by star wars or other calamities.
  But the problem arose from something else: in a world of joy, abundance, and a lack of problems and work, people began to lapse into childhood and drift off into a virtual reality resembling absolute paradise. In other words, they became infantile and thirsty only for pleasure.
  And they even took on the appearance of eleven- or twelve-year-old children. And the space republic stretched across numerous galaxies, so it all looked like one big kindergarten. But so cheerful and happy. And people, now children, are having fun. Since no intelligent aliens were found on the planets, the best human scientists artificially created some fabulous creatures.
  And then there appeared man-made elves, trolls, gnomes, hobbits, vampires and so on.
  And besides them, there are also cartoons. All sorts of them. From various children's series. And it's great!
  Here's one such cartoon: a boy named Petya was talking to Zigzag Mokryak. The latter argued, with fervor and foam at the mouth:
  - There's nothing better than a jet plane. All this traveling between worlds via a Mura box!
  Petya objected with a typical nerd's smile:
  - How about trying to fly your jet plane in space? I think it would be a futile undertaking!
  The drake pilot hissed:
  The enemy thinks in vain,
  He managed to break Zigzag...
  He who dares attacks in battle,
  We will beat our enemies furiously!
  Then the walking wolf appeared and whined:
  - Well, let's travel together! And you'll understand what's best and what's worst!
  Zigzag grinned and sang:
  I travel into passion,
  It doesn't matter what kind of government...
  We will defeat all the villains,
  Let's fly quickly to the stars!
  And in a more serious tone he added:
  - Well, let's try it!
  The wolf nodded and whined:
  - Then follow me!
  And Zigzag and Petya rushed after the beast. He led them to the closet. And the three of them jumped in. Then everything just took off...
  They took off into some desert with blue sand. The dunes were orange and moving.
  Zigzag noted with a sweet look:
  - Wow! The imagination of an idiot!
  Petya objected:
  "This isn't my imagination, it's the planet Tatooine. And don't mistake it for a hallucination."
  There was a sound of movement in the blue sand, and a strange creature, resembling a matryoshka doll with spider legs, emerged. It shook its face and cooed:
  - What do young travelers want?
  Zigzag muttered:
  - Shashlik with red wine!
  The creature giggled and replied:
  - If you want to get shashlik with wine, guess the riddle!
  The wolf nodded:
  - It's a sand matryoshka doll. It doesn't just grant wishes!
  The drake pilot muttered:
  Give me your riddle!
  The matryoshka doll with legs wheezed:
  - What is easy to lift, but difficult to throw far!?
  Zikzag grinned and replied:
  - A jet fighter. It takes off easily, but try throwing it!
  Matryoshka giggled:
  - Wrong! And here you go...
  A floe of ice fell on Zigzag's head. It crashed and split with a loud crack. The drake-pilot scratched his head and exclaimed:
  - What hurts!
  The ice floes fell onto the blue sand and began to hiss like butter in a frying pan.
  Petya exclaimed:
  - I know the answer to this riddle!
  The Matryoshka doll with legs said:
  - Okay, speak up!
  The boy chirped:
  - It's fluff! It's easy to lift, but difficult to throw-air resistance gets in the way!
  The desert creature squeaked:
  - Now you can make a wish!
  Petka giggled and asked sarcastically:
  - Any wish?
  Matryoshka replied:
  "Within reason. My magic isn't that strong. Besides, the wish will only last until the evening!"
  Petka grinned and replied:
  - Then make it so that all three of us fly without wings!
  The creature shook its limbs. And Petya waved his arms, and his feet lifted off the sand. The wolf also took off, followed by Zigzag. The three of them soared.
  The drake pilot noted:
  - Flying without wings is, in its own way, very cool!
  And then he added:
  - But the plane is still better!
  The triumvirate began to accelerate. Ahead, a surface of water sparkled, and around it grew strange palms, ferns, and some kind of flora resembling violins stuck in the sand.
  Zigzag gurgled:
  - This is awesome! Just super!
  Petya noted:
  - One time we were jumping on sunflowers...
  Near the oasis lake was a rather impressive castle. It had multicolored domes, and the structure looked rich and beautiful.
  The wolf noted with a smile:
  - Let's take a look at the fire!
  Zigzag took and sang:
  - Having painted my lips with shoe polish, I go out onto the promenade... And the stars shine beautifully for me - and hell is nice!
  The triumvirate descended toward the castle. Elves rushed out to greet them. They were fabulously beautiful girls, their breasts and hips barely covered by narrow strips of fabric, and their feet bare.
  The four beauties bowed and chirped:
  - Where are you heading?
  Zigzag sang in response:
  Our plane is flying forward,
  There is a stop in the commune...
  We have no other path,
  We have a rifle in our hands!
  The girls burst out laughing... And stamped their bare, chiseled feet.
  Petya exclaimed:
  - You are wonderful girls!
  The elves laughed and one of them remarked:
  - You're still a little man. Or... I know that people have become so childish that they look like children at any age!
  Petka giggled and replied:
  - I'm not an ordinary child in any case! Why?
  The elves giggled:
  - What? No problem - there will be "Eskimo" in the summer!
  The wolf asked:
  - Maybe your owner has some problems?
  The girls took and sang:
  Even though we can't solve all the problems,
  Not all problems can be solved!
  But everyone will become happier,
  Everyone will have more fun!
  Zigzag grinned and sang:
  We will sweep away the enemy with one blow,
  We will confirm our glory with a steel sword...
  We didn't shoot down the planes in vain,
  If necessary, we'll break it right away!
  And the drake pilot jumped up like a hare. Now that was really cool.
  The elves answered in chorus:
  "Our lady needs a cheerful companion for entertainment. Perhaps a long-nosed one would do the trick!"
  Zigzag jumped up and spun around like a top. And roared:
  - Time for fun,
  It's time to play...
  An hour of fun,
  Try not to waste this hour!
  After which the triumvirate rushed into the elven princess's chambers. Petya remarked with a smile:
  - Why are the girls barefoot?
  The elf who had an emerald wreath in her hair answered:
  - To make it easier to cast spells!
  The wolf sang in response:
  And the oak trees-sorcerers that whisper in the fog,
  Shadows of light rise against the treacherous gate...
  Hares mow the grass, the grass in the clearing,
  And from fear they sing the song faster and faster!
  They walked further into the rooms. The castle was ostentatiously luxurious, and inside it seemed much larger and more spacious than on the outside. There were statues, gilding, and precious stones of all kinds. And there were portraits of beautiful girls and, less often, young men. Such a wonderful gallery.
  And in the throne room was a princess. A very beautiful girl with lynx ears. And a diamond crown on her head.
  Zigzag gurgled:
  - You are welcome!
  The elf princess took it and squeaked:
  - I love you, love may still have not completely died out in my soul, but let it not bother you anymore, I don"t want to sadden you with anything!
  And she took the drake pilot by the hand and began to dance with him. The elf was adorned with jewels, yet her feet were bare, and on each elegant toe was a ring with a precious stone. And she moved almost silently.
  Petya noticed with a sad look:
  - Idyll!
  The wolf objected:
  - This is just establishing contact!
  Zigzag took and sang:
  I am a simple man, and I will say it openly,
  I have never seen such beauty in my life!
  You, elf, are as beautiful as the sun, believe me,
  It's sweet to be with you, Goddess!
  Petya said with annoyance:
  But there is still something in this world,
  These men...
  When a woman is noticed,
  So you're fools right away!
  The wolf objected to this:
  It is impossible to live in this world without women, no,
  In them is the sun of May, in them is the dawn of love!
  I can't find the words,
  And I fall in love again!
  Every time I do,
  Even for an hour!
  Petka giggled... And his partner added:
  - When you grow up, you'll understand! But for now, you're still a child!
  Zigzag sang a whole romance with pathos:
  My imagination was struck,
  Your image flashed like a comet's tail.
  You pierced me like lightning,
  With its radiant beauty in the stars!
  
  Poets praise such beauty,
  The same face of the Moon cannot be eclipsed for centuries.
  May Venus bring you happiness,
  The evil predator has fallen - subdued like game!
  
  You are so beautiful that you are capable of,
  To conquer the depths of the sky.
  With you I can breathe easily, freely,
  The thread of life winds like silk between your fingers!
  
  I don't hope to understand your proud nature,
  Because you are Artemis's sister!
  And even my jaw clenches in tears,
  Will the dream really float away to Tartarus?
  
  In what sweet dreams did you appear?
  It is not possible to understand the heavenly appearance...
  The young man's pillow in salty tears,
  O sinister world - I don"t see a movie!
  
  The supporting structure of love,
  It is light, but it presses with a chain of grief...
  We want to soar like cranes,
  But the sea pulls you into the abyss of hell!
  
  What kind of fate has imposed shackles,
  What made the universe more important!
  May God give more strength to the young,
  Do not send excessive punishment!
  
  The Almighty said: He gave a test,
  Not for what you have endured for so long.
  But the ideal needs to be tempered,
  What a way to get out of a soft cradle!
  
  Now you are an eagle with the eagle,
  Now he can settle accounts with fate!
  And if you started a battle with Satan,
  That means he is capable of fighting even when he needs it!
  
  Now I soar with you, cherub,
  You are a virgin, like a bright star!
  We will conquer the vastness of the universe,
  I will never part with you!
  This is how the drake pilot sang with pathos and scope. Now that's a romance.
  The elves clapped. Among the girls were a couple of young men. Unlike the elves, they wore sandals, but their faces were also gentle and beardless, like those of handsome teenagers.
  Petka noticed:
  - Elves are simply inimitable! I can simply say - super!
  The wolf noticed with a bared tooth:
  "Every race has its own unique character. And you can't say one is weak, and the other is strong! Or even, on the contrary, disgusting or beautiful." And the fanged one added, "And bearded dwarves have no less charm and beauty than pretty, polished-skinned elves."
  The elf heard this and was offended, and angrily stamped her bare, graceful foot, which was distinguished by its sexiness:
  - Don't you dare compare us to those bearded freaks! We are truly magnificent, and they are just beasts!
  Petka objected:
  - There are no ugly creatures, there are only crooked mirrors!
  This elicited amused laughter. It really did look quite funny.
  The elves smiled. And their princess asked:
  - Tell me, boy, have you seen someone more beautiful than me?
  Petka shrugged his shoulders and answered:
  - It's hard to say! You are truly magnificent! Indeed, such beauty as yours is unique and eternal!
  The princess confirmed:
  - Exactly! We elves, unlike humans, and dwarves don't age! This is a great, even colossal, advantage for us!
  The wolf confirmed:
  "Yes, elves don't age in appearance, at least, and they live for a thousand years unless they're killed in battle. Sometimes an elf can live even longer, with the help of magic. But humans can be rejuvenated, too. Although it's not that easy!"
  Zigzag exclaimed with enthusiasm:
  Laughter is fun and beautiful,
  She always heals the heart...
  Oh boy, you agree with me,
  Of course yes, of course yes, of course yes!
  Petka objected:
  - Don't speak for others, drake! We're just that cool!
  The wolf chuckled and noted:
  - I agree about the light! But let's sing something for reconciliation!
  The boy said with a cheerful look:
  - Singing would be great! And maybe even cool!
  The princess burst out laughing and replied:
  - This drake is good, beyond words. But can he solve riddles?
  Zigzag nodded his head:
  - Make a wish and I will answer!
  Petka noticed:
  - Be careful, drake, if you make a mistake, your wings will be plucked!
  The drake shrugged and replied:
  "I know no fear! I can do things that would make any enemy panic. Or more accurately, turn them into a corpse! Isn't that right?"
  The princess giggled and replied:
  - That's right! We'll hang them all! And believe me, that's how it will be! We'll send them all to their graves!
  Petka chirped:
  - If the weak one goes straight to the coffin,
  The man is not just a snob!
  And the boy burst out laughing, as if he'd actually managed to pull off something so funny. And really, why not...
  The princess muttered:
  - Okay, shut up, child, while I'm talking. Here's my first question: what's round but doesn't roll off?
  Zigzag Mokryak muttered:
  - Fools! They're round, but they don't roll off!
  The princess muttered:
  - What a fool you are! But does the child know?
  Petka answered confidently:
  - It's a planet! It's round, but you can't slide off it!
  The elf princess confirmed:
  - Excellent! Well done boy! I give you permission to give this drake five flicks!
  Zigzag objected:
  - This is unfair! Why five for one question!
  Petka shrugged his shoulders and answered:
  "I'm not interested in giving him a hard time either! His head is stronger than my fingers, and it'll hurt more!"
  The wolf nodded:
  - This is not interesting!
  The princess muttered:
  - Then let him kiss my bare soles! That will be better!
  The drake pilot nodded:
  - I agree to this!
  And he fell prostrate and enthusiastically began kissing the elf princess's bare feet. She laughed. She clearly enjoyed it very much. Such a wonderful girl. And her bare feet were simply magnificent.
  The wolf noted:
  - And he seems to like it!
  The elf squeaked:
  Everyone wants to be liked,
  It's hard to deal with them...
  It's not that easy to be faithful,
  And then let's sharpen the chisel!
  And then her tone became more stern and she exclaimed:
  - Okay, get up! I'll make another wish for you!
  Petka remarked with a smile:
  - Or maybe he wants to lose more than win?
  The wolf objected:
  - Nobody wants to lose! In this regard, Zigzag is not unique!
  The wet one muttered:
  - I'll be straining my brain to the fullest! Believe me!
  Petka asked doubtfully:
  - Do you by any chance have more than one convolution?
  Zigzag snapped back:
  - You're offended, I have fourteen convolutions... - Here the drake corrected himself, stamping his paw. - No, even more, eight!
  The elf princess giggled:
  - Really! You're so educated, so to speak! You're clearly a miracle drake!
  Petka giggled and suggested:
  - Can I ask him a riddle?
  The elf with a diamond wreath on her head nodded:
  - Yes, you can! Although if he guesses correctly, he can demand any wish from you!
  Petka winced:
  - Just any kind? What if it's something indecent?
  The princess laughed and replied:
  - What do you want? Don"t lose!
  The drake pilot replied in a decisive tone:
  "I won't demand anything indecent from him! I'll just give him a good kick in the ass!"
  The wolf remarked with a grin:
  - Zigzag hits Petka hard! Is it worth the risk?
  The boy answered bravely:
  - No risk, no champagne!
  The fanged beast noticed:
  - And whoever risks too much, is content with chifir in prison!
  The princess remarked:
  - But if Zigzag loses, he will be obliged to fulfill any wish of the boy!
  The drake pilot exclaimed:
  - Agreed! Let him ask! I will answer!
  Petka grinned and asked:
  - Where is the center of the universe?
  Zigzag grinned and replied:
  - In my heart!
  The boy giggled and asked:
  - And why in your heart and not mine!?
  Mokryak replied:
  - Because my heart burns like fire, and you have the heart of a hare!
  The princess remarked:
  "The answer is both formally correct and incorrect! I award you a draw and invite you to simply join in a little feast. I think the boy could be a good jester!"
  Petka objected:
  "I usually solve complex philosophical problems, not just play the part of a jester! But if you want..."
  The wolf answered with a smile:
  - We accept your offer and stay for the feast, and I hope you won"t be bored with us!
  CHAPTER No 13.
  Oleg Rybachenko is back on another mission. As they say, not a moment's peace. This time, it's the Brezhnev era. In March 1969, China attacked the USSR. The aging Mao Zedong longed for the glory of a great conqueror, acquiring territory for China where the population was rapidly growing. Besides, the old man and great helmsman was bored. He longed for great deeds. So why not attack the USSR? Especially since good-natured Brezhnev had a doctrine: the USSR would never use nuclear weapons first. This meant that ground forces would fight, without the dreaded nuclear bomb. The date chosen for the attack was symbolic: March 5, the anniversary of Stalin's death. Mao believed that Stalin's death was a great loss for the USSR. Therefore, on that day, fortune would favor Russia's enemies.
  And so, millions of Chinese soldiers launched an offensive across a vast territory. The fact that the snow had not yet melted and there were freezing temperatures in Siberia and the Far East didn't faze the Chinese. Although their equipment is limited, and what they have is outdated. But Mao was counting on assistance from the US and Western countries, and on the vastly superior infantry strength of the Celestial Empire. China also has a larger population than the USSR, and Soviet Russia would have to redeploy troops from its European part to Siberia. Which would be very difficult.
  And the land army went.
  The direction of the particularly massive attack was the town of Dalny, at the outlet of the Amur River. That is, at the point where this full-flowing river ended on the border between the USSR and China. The hordes of the Celestial Empire could move by land without encountering water obstacles.
  It was there that the most massive attack was carried out using tanks.
  Oleg Rybachenko and Margarita Korshunova led a children's battalion of local pioneers to their positions.
  Despite the fact that the snow had not yet melted, the strong Siberian children, seeing that the commanders Oleg and Margarita were barefoot and wearing light clothes in shorts and a short skirt, also took off their shoes and undressed.
  And now the boys and girls splashed their bare, childish feet in the snow, leaving graceful traces.
  To fight the Chinese, young warriors led by Oleg and Margarita created homemade rockets loaded with sawdust and coal dust. These rockets are ten times more explosive than TNT. These rockets can be launched at both air and ground targets. Meanwhile, the Chinese had amassed a large number of tanks and aircraft.
  Boys and girls also built special hybrids of crossbows and machine guns that fired poisonous needles. And some other things. For example, children's plastic cars were equipped with explosives and controlled by radio. And that, too, was a weapon.
  Olezhka and Margarita also suggested that the children make special rockets that fired poisoned glass and covered a large area, with the aim of destroying enemy infantry.
  China's main strength lies in its brutal assaults and its innumerable personnel, which compensates for its lack of equipment. In this regard, the country has no equal in the world.
  A war with China differs, for example, from a war with the Third Reich in that the enemy, the USSR, has an overwhelming superiority in manpower. And this, of course, creates a very serious problem if the war drags on.
  In short, Mao made a gambler's bet. And an epic battle began. Soviet troops met the Chinese with volleys of Grad rockets. And the latest Uragan systems also fired. A beautiful girl, Alenka, directed the strikes of the newly arrived battery. And chunks of torn flesh flew from the Chinese.
  And the girls, flashing their bare, pink heels, crushed the troops of the Celestial Empire.
  Although they mostly targeted infantry, taking out personnel. That's how energetic and sweeping the girls were.
  The Chinese then launched an offensive against the children's battalion's positions. A small number of attack aircraft were the first to fly. These were mostly Soviet-era IL-2 and IL-10 fighters, both considerably outdated. A few newer attack aircraft were also from the USSR, and a small number were manufactured in China, but again under Russian license.
  But Mao has no developments of his own.
  That is, on the one hand, there is China, which is technically backward but has a very large population, and on the other hand, there is the USSR, which has fewer human resources but is technologically advanced.
  The children are heroes, launching missiles at the attack aircraft. They're small-smaller than birdhouses-but there are a lot of them. And the tiny, pea-sized device invented by Oleg and Margarita is sound-homing.
  This is truly a miracle weapon. Child warriors launch it using lighters or matches. They rise into the air and ram Chinese attack aircraft, blowing them up along with their pilots. Most of the Celestial Empire's aircraft don't even have ejection devices. And they explode with savage destruction and a spray of shrapnel.
  And many fragments ignite in the air, reminiscent of fireworks, with colossal dispersion. Now that's a real explosion.
  Oleg noted with a satisfied look:
  - China is getting a kick in the pants!
  Margarita giggled and replied:
  - As usual, we're hitting China pretty hard!
  And the children burst into laughter. And the other boys and girls, splashing their bare, childish, chiseled feet, laughed and began launching rockets even more energetically.
  The Chinese attack aircraft's attack was thwarted. They fell, shattered and flattened, their shells blazing. That was devastating power.
  The boy Sasha giggles and notes:
  - The USSR will show China what's what!
  Pioneer girl Lara confirms:
  - Our murderous influence will be ours! We will crush and hang everyone!
  And the young warrior stamped her bare foot in a small puddle.
  Fighting was indeed raging along the entire front line. The Chinese were advancing like a battering ram. Or rather, an innumerable number of battering rams.
  The first wave of stormtroopers was repelled by the young Leninists.
  The boy Petka noticed:
  - If only Stalin were alive, he would be proud of us!
  The pioneer girl Katya noticed:
  - But Stalin is gone, and now Leonid Ilyich is in power!
  Oleg remarked with a sigh:
  - Most likely, Brezhnev is a long way from Stalin!
  Leonid Ilyich's reign would indeed be called stagnant. Although the country continued to develop, albeit not as rapidly as under Stalin. But the Baikal-Amur Mainline (BAM) and gas pipelines from Siberia to Europe were built, and Soligorsk and other cities were constructed. Not all the bad things were connected to Brezhnev. Especially since in 1969, Leonid Ilyich was not yet old-he was only sixty-two, and not senile. And he had a strong team, especially Prime Minister Kosygin.
  The country is on the rise, and its nuclear potential has almost matched that of the United States. In conventional weapons, the Soviet Union's ground forces significantly outnumber the United States, especially in tanks. America has an advantage only in large surface ships and bomber aircraft. In tanks, the USSR has a nearly fivefold advantage. And perhaps even in quality. Soviet tanks are smaller than American ones, but better armored, better armed, and faster.
  It's true that American tanks are more comfortable for their crews, and they have a more user-friendly control system. The newest vehicles are controlled by joysticks. But this isn't a significant difference. More crew space increased the vehicle's size and reduced its armor.
  But after the air attack wave petered out, and dozens of Chinese attack aircraft-more than two hundred, to be exact-were shot down and destroyed, tanks went into action. These were mostly older Soviet tanks. Among them were even T-34-85s, a few T-54s, and a very small number of T-55s. China doesn't have any later Soviet T-62s or T-64s at all. There are some copies of the T-54, but they are few and far between, and their armor quality is far inferior to the Soviet ones, not only in protection, but also in the reliability of the diesel engine, optics, and much more.
  But the Chinese's greatest weakness is their number of tanks and vehicles. So, as in ancient times, they're advancing with large masses of infantry. True, one must give them credit: the Chinese are brave and don't spare their lives. And in some places, they're breaking through.
  Incidentally, in the area of the city of Dalniy, the commanders of the Celestial Empire assembled a group of armored vehicles and deployed it in a wedge formation.
  The children are naturally looking forward to this. The Pioneer Battalion is assembled. Some of the kids, however, are already starting to feel cold. Both boys and girls have started pulling on their felt boots and warm clothes.
  Oleg and Margarita, like immortal children, remained barefoot. Some boys and girls endured it and remained in shorts and light summer dresses, with bare feet. Really, why do they need clothes and boots? They could do without them.
  Oleg, as an immortal highlander, is naturally invulnerable, and his feet and body feel only a slight chill from the snow and icy wind. Like the chill from ice cream, which isn't unpleasant. Or like when you walk barefoot in the snow in a dream. There's a slight chill, but it's not at all scary.
  In any case, the clanking of tracks and the movement of tanks can be heard. The IS-4s, old Soviet vehicles, are first. There are only five of them. This is a heavy tank of the post-war USSR. It has decent protection, even from the sides, but it is obsolete. It weighs sixty tons, and its 122-millimeter gun isn't the most modern or rapid-fire. But these are the heaviest tanks and, traditionally, are at the tip of the wedge.
  Following them are the T-55s, the best tanks in China's arsenal. Then come the Soviet-made T-54s, and then the same tank, also produced in China. But they are, of course, of inferior quality. And at the very end are the weakest tanks in terms of armor and armament-the T-34-85s.
  Here comes this army.
  But children also have a variety of small cars with powerful charges, and missiles that can hit both air and ground targets.
  And so the brutal battle begins. Oleg and Margarita run, their bare heels flashing, red from the cold, and launch the rockets. The other boys and girls do the same. And the rockets fly with deadly force. And the rockets fly, hitting the tanks.
  The first to be hit were the former Soviet, now Chinese, IS-4 tanks. Hit by missiles filled with sawdust and coal dust, they simply exploded into tiny fragments and detonated.
  The vehicles were quite large, squat, and in appearance reminiscent of the German King Tigers, except that the barrel was shorter, but thicker.
  And all five vehicles were instantly destroyed by missiles from a distance.
  And their fragments burned and smoked.
  Then the young warriors took on the more advanced and dangerous T-55.
  And they too began to pummel them with missiles. The children acted quickly. Some of them even took off their felt boots, and now their bare heels flashed.
  The children's bare feet turned as red as geese's feet. And it was quite funny.
  Oleg, launching another missile at the Chinese aircraft that Mao had sent against the USSR, noted:
  -Here the largest socialist countries are fighting with each other for the amusement of the Americans.
  Margarita angrily stamped her bare, childish foot, launched three rockets at once and noted:
  - These are Mao's ambitions. He wants the glory of a great conqueror.
  Indeed, China's leader was quite insecure. He longed for greatness, but the years were passing. Mao may have been great, but he still had a long way to go before he reached the glory of Stalin or Genghis Khan. And by his time, both Genghis Khan and Stalin had died. But they had cemented themselves in world history as the greatest. And Mao desperately wanted to surpass them. But what was the easiest way to do that?
  Defeating the USSR, of course. Especially now that it's ruled by Leonid Brezhnev, who has adopted the doctrine of no first use of nuclear weapons. So Mao has a chance of at least seizing Soviet territory as far as the Urals. And then his empire will become the largest in the world.
  And the war has begun. And millions upon millions of soldiers have been thrown into battle. And not just millions, but tens of millions. And it must be said that most Chinese don't spare their lives. And they rush toward Soviet positions like soldiers in a game of Entente.
  But the Russian troops were prepared, too. But they were still so overwhelmingly outnumbered that they simply couldn't contain them. Their machine guns were literally jamming. And they needed some kind of special ammunition to counter that much infantry.
  Oleg and the other kids are still destroying tanks. The missiles have burned and destroyed all the T-55s and are now attacking the lesser vehicles. And they're firing at them.
  Oleg, who had foresight, thought that attacks by buggies and motorcycles would be more problematic. But China currently has even fewer of these than tanks. And that makes defense easier.
  And the tanks aren't moving very quickly through the snow. And the Chinese vehicles themselves are lagging behind the Soviet ones we bought or donated.
  Nevertheless, the children launch new missiles. The kindergarten cars, slightly modified into combat kamikazes, are also sent into battle.
  The battle raged with renewed, furious intensity. The number of Chinese tanks destroyed had already surpassed one hundred, and their number continued to increase.
  Oleg noted with a sweet look:
  - Advanced technology is better than advanced ideology.
  And the guys launched new machines. Two T-54s collided head-on and started exploding. Actually, the Chinese vehicles move much slower than the Soviet ones. The battle is simply escalating.
  Margarita, too, let out something extremely devastating with her bare toes. And the cars exploded, their turrets torn off.
  The girl sang:
  The Wehrmacht's back was broken in battle,
  Bonaparte froze all his ears...
  We gave NATO a good kick in the ass,
  And China is squeezed between the pines!
  And again, with her bare fingers, she pressed the joystick buttons with her incredible strength. Now that's a real Terminator girl.
  These are such wonderful children. And once again, the Chinese tanks are burning. And they're being torn apart. And the torn-up rollers are rolling across the snow. Fuel is flowing out, blazing, like flames. And the snow is actually melting. This is truly the impact of these young fighters. And the tank destruction count is already approaching three hundred.
  Oleg thought as he fought... Stalin was certainly a beast. But in November 1942, given the population losses in the territories occupied by the Nazis, he had fewer manpower resources than Putin had in 1922. Nevertheless, in two and a half years, Stalin liberated territory six times larger than all of Ukraine and Crimea combined. Putin, however, having started the war first and holding the initiative, managed to take five years-twice as long as Stalin had after the Stalingrad turning point-to bring even the Donetsk region under Russian control. So who can doubt that Stalin was a genius, and Putin still has a long way to go.
  But Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev is generally considered soft-hearted, weak-willed, and lacking in intellect and ability. Could he stand up to Mao and his rule over the world's most populous country?
  Plus, there's the danger that the US and the Western world will provide China with military assistance. Even now, the enemy's superiority in infantry isn't having the best effect.
  In fact, the number of tanks destroyed by their children's battalion alone has reached the fourth hundred. Self-propelled guns are also visible further on.
  The Chinese are also outdated. They try to fire on the move, which is quite dangerous. But child warriors prefer to fire from a distance. And it pays off.
  All new Chinese cars are on fire.
  Oleg noted with a smile:
  - Mao starts and loses!
  Margarita objected:
  - It's not that simple, the great helmsman has too many pawns!
  The young highlander nodded:
  - Yes, pawns are not nuts - they are future queens!
  The children once again used the bare toes of their small but very nimble feet in battle.
  The boy Seryozhka noted:
  - We're giving China a hard time!
  Margarita corrected:
  - We are not fighting with the Chinese people, but with their ruling, adventurous elite.
  Oleg nodded in agreement:
  - It's even kind of unpleasant to kill Chinese people! You could say it's creepy. After all, they're not bad guys!
  And the young warrior launched a missile into the attack on the self-propelled guns.
  The boy Sasha, pressing the button with his bare fingers to launch another children's car with explosives, noted:
  - Well, their girls are pretty good too!
  Among the Chinese self-propelled guns were some with 152-millimeter howitzers. They tried to fire at the children from a distance. Some boys and girls even received minor scratches from the exploding fragmentation shells. But there was protection here too-protective stones that reduced the likelihood of shrapnel and shells hitting the children. And it must be said, it worked.
  And the young battalion suffered virtually no losses.
  Oleg noted with a sweet smile:
  - That's how we work...
  More than five hundred Chinese tanks and self-propelled guns had already been destroyed, and that was impressive. And so the young warriors dispersed.
  This is a real dance of death.
  Margarita, this girl kicked with her bare, round heel and noted:
  Woe to him who fights,
  With a Russian girl in battle...
  If the enemy goes berserk,
  I'll kill that bastard!
  The Chinese finally ran out of armor, and then came the infantry. And this is the greatest force. There is a lot of it, and it comes in a dense avalanche, like locusts. This is truly a clash of the titans.
  The child heroes used special rockets containing poison-laced glass shards against the personnel. And they did indeed knock out a ton of Mao's soldiers. But they continued to press on, like a toad on a writhing squirrel.
  Oleg launched it with the help of a child"s bare foot and noted:
  - We must stand firm in any case!
  Margarita noted:
  - And they weren"t the ones who beat them!
  The Terminator boy remembered computer games. How they mowed down advancing enemy infantry. They did it very effectively. But in "Entente," even the most aggressive assault couldn't overcome a solid line of pillboxes. And the infantry was fatally affected.
  And you mow it down not just by the thousands, but by the tens of thousands. And it really worked.
  And the children launched high-explosive rockets. And then they used toy cars with explosives.
  Oleg thought the Germans couldn't have afforded something like that during World War II. They didn't have that much manpower. However, the Nazis had problems with tanks, too.
  But China is a special country, and there, human resources have never been taken into account. And they've been used up without a problem.
  And now the infantry keeps coming and coming... And the child heroes are driving it out.
  Oleg remembered that in the Entente, there was no limit on ammunition consumption. And any tank could fire literally forever. Or a bunker. So in this game, you could mow down a billion infantrymen.
  But in a real war, ammunition is not endless. And won't the Chinese pelt them with corpses?
  And they keep coming and coming. And the mounds of corpses really do grow. But the boys and girls keep firing. And they do it very accurately.
  And of course, they've also put crossbow-machine gun hybrids into use. Let's mow down the Chinese. They're working very hard.
  The fighting in other areas is no joke either. Both Grad and machine guns are used against enemy infantry. Among them, for example, are Dragon rockets, which fire five thousand rounds per minute. This is very effective against infantry. And the Chinese don't spare their personnel. They suffer colossal losses. But they still push forward and storm.
  Natasha and her friends, for example, are using dragons to attack Chinese infantry. It's a truly unstoppable onslaught. And whole mountains of corpses are falling. It's simply brutal.
  Zoya, another warrior, notes:
  - These are the bravest guys, but their leadership has clearly gone crazy!
  Victoria, firing from the Dragon machine gun, noted:
  - This is simply a hellish effect!
  Svetlana pressed the joystick buttons with her bare toes and noted:
  - Let's take our enemies seriously!
  The girls held their ground very steadfastly. But then the Dragon machine guns began to overheat. They were cooled by a special liquid. And the shots were incredibly accurate. The bullets found their targets in this dense horde.
  Natasha noted while mowing down the Chinese:
  - What do you girls think, if there is another world?
  Zoya, continuing to fire at the Chinese, replied:
  - Maybe there is! In any case, something exists beyond the body!
  Victoria, who was firing mercilessly, agreed:
  - Of course it exists! After all, we fly in our dreams. And what is that if not a memory of the soul's flight?
  Svetlana, a Chinese addict, agreed:
  - Yes, that's most likely true! So, even though we're dead, we're not dying for good!
  And the dragons continued their devastating influence. And it truly was deadly.
  Soviet attack aircraft appeared in the sky. They began dropping fragmentation rockets to destroy the infantry.
  The Chinese air force is weak, so Soviet aircraft can bomb with near impunity.
  But the Celestial Empire does have some fighters, and they engage in combat. And the impact is felt.
  Akulina Orlova shoots down a couple of Chinese planes and sings:
  Heaven and earth are in our hands,
  Let communism win...
  The sun will dispel fear,
  Let the ray of light shine!
  And the girl took it again and kicked with her bare, round heel. That's how powerful it was.
  Anastasia Vedmakova also fights. She looks no older than thirty, but she fought in the Crimean War, dating back to the reign of Nicholas I. She's quite the sorceress. And she shot down a record number of German planes during World War II. True, her exploits weren't fully appreciated at the time.
  Anastasia first shoots down Chinese planes in the sky, and then attacks the infantry with rockets. The enemy really does have too many troops. They suffer colossal damage, but they still press on.
  Anastasia noted with a sad look:
  - We have to kill people and in huge quantities!
  Akulina agreed:
  - Yes, it"s unpleasant, but we are fulfilling our duty to the USSR!
  And the girls, having dropped the last bombs on the infantry, flew off to reload. They are such active and tough warriors.
  The Chinese infantry was attacked with all types of weapons, including flamethrowers. This inflicted significant losses on the enemy. More precisely, the Chinese were killed in the hundreds of thousands, but they continued to advance. They demonstrated their outstanding bravery, but lacked technique and strategy. The fighting, however, was fierce.
  Oleg once again employed his know-how, an ultrasonic device. It was constructed from ordinary milk bottles. But they had a simply lethal effect on the Chinese. Their bodies turned into carrion, a pile of protoplasm. Metal, bones, and flesh all became mingled together.
  It felt like the ultrasound was frying the Chinese troops alive. And that's truly quite terrifying.
  Margarita licked her lips and noted:
  - A magnificent hat-trick!
  The boy Seryozhka noticed:
  - It looks simply terrifying! They look like bacon!
  Oleg laughed and replied:
  - It's mortally dangerous to mess with us! Long live communism in great glory!
  And the children stamped their bare, well-shaped feet in unison.
  And then Soviet strategic bombers began attacking the Chinese. They dropped heavy napalm bombs, covering many hectares at once. And it looked simply monstrous. The impact, let's say, was extremely aggressive.
  And when such a bomb falls, the fire literally engulfs a huge crowd.
  Oleg sang with inspiration:
  We will never give up, believe me,
  Believe me, we will show courage in battle...
  For God Svarog is for us, but Satan is against us,
  And we glorify the Most High Rod!
  Margarita threw a large, deadly pea of death and squeaked:
  - May the Mother of Russian Gods Lada be glorified!
  And again the ultrasonic device struck, and missiles flew at the Chinese. They hit them with glass and needles. And now the warriors of the Celestial Empire could not withstand the heavy losses and began to retreat. Tens of thousands of charred and peeling corpses lay scattered across the field.
  The boy Sasha chirped wittily:
  - Field, field, field - who has strewn you with dead bones!
  Oleg and Margarita exclaimed in unison:
  - We! Glory to the USSR! Glory to Communism and a bright future!
  CHAPTER No 15.
  In the very first days of fighting, the Chinese, at the cost of enormous losses, managed to wedge themselves into Soviet territory. They made particular progress in Primorye, where they were not forced to form the Amur River. Vladivostok was threatened with encirclement. The USSR was forced to declare a general mobilization. This required considerable expenditure. Brezhnev, to avoid introducing rationing, somewhat reduced the scale of the mobilization.
  There were attempts to resolve the issue diplomatically. But Mao was adamant: no negotiations - fight to the finish!
  Until the complete capitulation of the USSR.
  The huge superiority in human resources gave China confidence in victory.
  The Kremlin proposed establishing a State Defense Committee, modeled on the Second World War, but Brezhnev kept hesitating. Meanwhile, the situation was escalating. The Chinese launched an offensive in Kazakhstan, too. The attack was aimed at Alma-Ata. And then, large enemy forces broke through.
  Timur and his team encountered Maoists here. A fierce battle lay ahead.
  The children fired automatic rifles and machine guns. They threw grenades with their bare toes. They acted with colossal energy. This was truly a young, but effective team.
  With them was Komsomol member Veronica. She was also wearing a short skirt and barefoot. It's still March, though, and it's cold in Kazakhstan. But of course, it's warmer than Siberia, and the snow has already melted. So the children fight with great fury.
  A girl, barefoot, also hurls a grenade at the Chinese. And machine guns mow down the advancing yellow warriors. They operate with colossal energy. And the mounds of corpses grow. This is truly bloodshed.
  Boys and girls are firing... And showing enthusiasm...
  The Chinese are trying to attack again at the junction.
  And again, Oleg and his team are fighting fiercely there. And they're firing very accurately.
  Here they are again, producing missiles and firing them at the Chinese. They are piercing whole mounds of corpses.
  Oleg remembered that in some strategy games, you can churn out infantry very quickly. And they, too, attack in tens of thousands and are safely mowed down. But computer units are one thing-they are essentially just bits of information-and living people are quite another.
  A boy and girls are fighting. Almost all the children have already taken off their shoes and coats. First, it's gotten a little warmer, and the snow is melting. A few days have passed, and it's no longer early March, but mid-March, and the sun is shining.
  Children splash barefoot through puddles and launch rockets.
  One of the girls even started singing:
  The sun is shining high, high,
  It's a long, long way to school!
  Oleg thought this war would likely be serious and long-lasting. The forged Mao wouldn't be willing to give in so easily. He would destroy everyone. As he said: let a billion Chinese die, but if only one million remain, we'll build communism with them. That's Maoism.
  What could well be called Asian fascism. But the Soviet troops still fight heroically. The USSR has a significant advantage in equipment. Tanks are being hastily transferred from Europe. The best development so far is the T-72, but this tank currently exists only in blueprints. A self-propelled gun with a mortar launcher is more effective. They are very good at knocking out large numbers of infantry.
  In general, given China's weak tank fleet, it's more effective to use high-explosive fragmentation and cluster munitions. They're a recipe for disaster for infantry. And a lot of dead bodies...
  Oleg, however, used ultrasound from bottle-type devices on a larger scale. And so much torn, rotten, and ground meat resulted from this.
  The children moved the machine gun around in circles, or rather, several machines. And they mowed down their opponents with extraordinary force. And they were deadly.
  Margarita chirped:
  The heavens opened with a crash,
  And miracles happened!
  That's how the kids showed off their dynamism here. And the missiles were firing. There were only a dozen tanks in the attack. And they stopped after the ultrasound turned the crews' bodies into pulp. That was truly devastating. And the infantry kept coming forward.
  Oleg stamped his bare, childish foot and sang:
  I believe the whole world will wake up,
  There will be an end to Maoism....
  And the sun will shine -
  Lighting the way for communism!
  And again the boy launched something lethal at the enemy. And the missiles exploded, scattering poisoned glass and games. And the ultrasound worked.
  You won't find such incredible numbers of living people being destroyed, even in even the most advanced strategy games. Although, for example, there are some that wipe out an entire regiment with a single salvo. And that's truly awesome.
  And the ultrasound alone is worth something. It's universal against both vehicles and infantry, and doesn't require much energy. Just turn on a gramophone and play Wagner, and the devastating effect begins.
  Oleg and Margarita also put in a lot of effort here. It's no wonder he's an immortal highlander. And the kids are working with incredible dedication.
  As they say, the Chinese gambit.
  The boy Sasha broke an ice floe with his bare, childish heel and sang:
  Our detachment will be in battle,
  The first step is important in life...
  We came out of the Octobrists,
  Whirlwinds of furious attacks are sweeping across the country!
  And the children again, like a bang, knocked out the Chinese shelves.
  Akulina and Anastasia are also crushing the enemy in the sky. The Celestial Empire has few planes, so the girls' main target is the ground forces. A special feature of the war is striking large, dense masses of infantry. Indeed, the tactic of pelting people with corpses is so typical of Maoists. And they literally don't spare their bellies.
  Anastasia noted with a sweet look:
  "I fought the Japanese. They didn't spare their lives either, but they weren't such weirdos, and there weren't that many of them!"
  Akulina agreed with this:
  - This is truly insane. To kill so many people! Even Hitler wasn't as merciless to his own as Mao.
  The red-haired pilot-witch giggled and replied:
  - Oh well, women will still give birth!
  And the girls let them hit the enemy with great force. This was a figuratively destructive effect. And they hit with special projectiles that flew far away.
  Nevertheless, the Chinese continued to advance in the Primorye region. Fighting for Khabarovsk also erupted. The situation on the battlefield is dire. The Chinese have hundreds of fully-fledged divisions, while the USSR has only forty-four. True, some are being transferred from the European part of the country, and mobilizations are underway.
  But the balance of power is overwhelmingly superior in numbers to China. The USSR is urgently rearming its tanks, increasing the number of machine guns. Fighting other tanks is no longer relevant. And so much blood is being shed.
  Rockets are being used, including napalm ones. The Soviet troops are suffocating... And the Chinese are trying to extend the front line. They're advancing on Kyrgyzstan too... Trying to push through the mountains. And the fighting is brutal. And masses of Chinese are dying, simply falling into ravines.
  However, the Celestial Empire's soldiers are also showing ingenuity. In particular, they make wooden tank models. This creates a morale boost for Soviet soldiers and simultaneously diverts bombs and missiles to decoy targets.
  The Minister of Defense at the time was Marshal Grechko. He was famous for having grass tinted and trees trimmed during his visits. Otherwise, he wasn't exactly the best commander.
  Although the Soviet army has not yet disintegrated and the system still works, the best marshals and generals from the Great Patriotic War have aged and are no longer the same. And some have even died.
  Fortunately for the USSR, the Chinese command isn't up to par either. But it has so many manpower resources. And it's capturing territory.
  By the end of March, most of Khabarovsk had been captured in a bloody assault, and Vladivostok was cut off by land. Fortunately, thanks to the weakness of the Chinese navy, its supplies were not completely cut off. For now, it held out, relying on powerful forts and defensive lines. However, the situation continued to deteriorate. The Celestial Empire's forces were advancing along the Amur River and threatening to completely overrun Primorye.
  And transporting troops over such a distance is quite difficult. There's only one railway line so far, and construction of the Baikal-Amur Mainline hasn't even begun.
  Fortunately, the USSR has plenty of ammunition in storage. And it can, in principle, be used. So far, there are no problems with quantity; the main thing is to deliver it on time.
  China's artillery is also weak, so the Celestial Empire's infantry storms unsuppressed points. But losses are irrelevant. They keep pushing forward. And that's their specialty. Masses of troops are crossing the Amur, even on rafts or swimming. And they, too, suffer enormous losses.
  The Amur River even turned reddish-brown from the corpses. A horrific massacre.
  And in some places, the Chinese are even managing to consolidate their positions. Fighting is already underway for Alma-Ata; the Chinese have broken through. They want to take the capital of Kazakhstan. This is truly bloody.
  The Soviet troops are attempting a counterattack. They have plenty of tanks, and they're well-equipped for moving around Siberia. Tank counterattacks are quite effective, and they're being carried out with force and pressure.
  Soviet troops also launch missile strikes. This is also a feature, even though they have a lot of missiles. China's air defenses are also weak. In particular, Soviet bombers even bombed Beijing. They destroyed Mao's palace.
  And the Chinese dictator hastened to move his residence to Shanghai, away from the front line.
  Where the children are with Oleg and Margarita, China has no progress; they are holding the line.
  But Mao's troops began to bypass Mongolian territory. They invaded it, advancing across the steppe. And here, too, the Amur River, deep and cold, could be bypassed. The timing of the attack was not ideal. The ice was already brittle and crumbling, making swimming difficult. But the warriors of the Celestial Empire pressed on regardless. And they feared nothing.
  There's fighting in Mongolia too... Soviet units are trying to help local troops hold back the Chinese. And they're still pressing forward. And, of course, there are infantry assaults, too.
  Alenka, for example, uses five machine gun barrels at once here, knocking out personnel.
  And the girl presses them with her bare toes. The girls here are barefoot-even though it's still a bit chilly at the end of March. But at least their bare feet are so nimble.
  Anyuta also shoots from machine guns and sings:
  A star fell from the sky -
  Into the evil helmsman's pants...
  She tore something off of him,
  If only there was no war!
  And the girl throws grenades with her bare toes. Now that's a fighting beauty. And the Chinese aren't having it easy. But there are just too many of them. They can't be translated.
  Olympiada simply threw an entire barrel of explosives with her bare feet. It rolled, fell, and into a dense crowd of Chinese, where it exploded, scattering them in all directions like bowling pins. The impact was extremely lethal.
  The girl Ekaterina took it and squeaked:
  - Our luck will be killer, we will checkmate Mao!
  Aurora is also shooting... The girls are in full swing.
  And of course, using flamethrowers is a delight. And the warriors will suddenly take up arms and begin to burn the warriors of the Celestial Empire.
  The Chinese, however, aren't known for their kindness either. In particular, they captured a young Komsomol member. So they first stripped the beauty naked. Then they hoisted her onto the rack. So naked, so beautiful, so muscular.
  They lifted her higher, so high her tendons creaked. And then they let her go. She collapsed, and as she reached the floor, the rope tightened, dislocating her joints. The Komsomol member gasped in pain.
  And the Chinese executioners laughed. And again they began to lift the naked girl up. And again the rope creaked and tightened. It was utterly grotesque. And then they lifted her higher and let go again. And the girl collapsed again. And right at the floor, the rope stretched to its limit. This time the Komsomol member couldn't bear it any longer and screamed in terrible pain.
  And the Chinese executioners just laugh. And they lift the girl up a third time.
  It's a kind of torture-a kind of shaking. It's very painful and excruciating-a cruel, so to speak, effect. After the third shaking, the Komsomol member lost consciousness.
  Then they cauterized her bare heel with a hot crowbar, and the girl came to her senses.
  The torture continued. Her bare feet were clamped in stocks and secured with locks, and heavy weights were hung on hooks, stretching her body.
  Then they beat her with red-hot barbed wire on her sides, back, and chest. They lit a fire under the girl's bare feet and roasted her bare heels. Then, red-hot pincers broke the Komsomol member's toes. And then they applied electric shock. That's how they tortured the girl.
  They didn't even ask any questions-they simply tortured and tormented me. But they still achieved nothing.
  Finally, they placed electrodes on her pubic area and administered such a shock that she actually started smoking. The pain shock ultimately caused her to fall into a coma.
  After which, practically dead, she was thrown into the furnace for disposal.
  This is how Mao's soldiers acted. They knew no pity for themselves or others.
  They were advancing on all fronts. Alma-Ata was already under threat of encirclement. Fighting was taking place on its outskirts.
  Alice and Angelica, two female snipers, fired their rifles so intensely that their index fingers swelled. There are so many Chinese, and they're pressing hard.
  Alice noted, wincing in pain:
  - Well, they're crawling! They're just locusts! And they don't spare people like that - it's terrible!
  Angelica noted:
  - Asianism! But we must hold on!
  The girls started shooting rifles using their bare toes. They did it with great energy. They stole magnificently. And firing with your feet-it's delightful.
  Angelica, the redhead in this couple, was quite tall, large, and muscular. She loved men and enjoyed the process of making love. However, she didn't appreciate constancy. She enjoyed sex, but didn't understand the concept of love.
  But Alisa is still a virgin and a very romantic person, and a natural blonde. And not as big as Angelica. But she's a phenomenally accurate shot.
  True, her skill isn't really needed right now, with the Chinese advancing like an avalanche and no regard for losses. Their disregard for the value of human life is simply astounding. They keep attacking and attacking. And it seems their manpower reserves are inexhaustible. It's true that the war hasn't even been a month yet, and the question remains how long Mao's army will last with such colossal losses.
  Alice noted with a sigh:
  - We are not surgeons, but butchers!
  Angelica noted:
  "I'd rather fight the Germans than the Chinese! The former required more thought and careful calculation!"
  And the girl pressed the trigger again with her bare toes. Their rifles had become so hot, when sweat dripped onto the barrel, it literally hissed.
  Alice chirped:
  Two thousand years of war,
  War without rational reason...
  Satan has broken free from his chains,
  And death came with him!
  Then the girl kicked them with her bare heel and launched a pea of death, a colossal, lethal force. And it simply scattered everyone in all directions.
  More precisely, the Chinese have suffered so much that you can't envy them. But what fortitude they have. And you have to be so deluded by Mao's ideas that you really don't spare your life. And keep on trying.
  Soviet troops used rocket launchers quite successfully against infantry. True, they don't fire quickly enough, but they pack a punch. And they can knock out infantry over large areas.
  The Chinese have so many troops that they're armed with whatever comes to hand-even flintlocks and hunting rifles. Some infantrymen even carry wooden machine guns, or even clubs or scythes.
  It reminds me of Yemelyan Pugachev's army - numerous, but poorly armed and organized.
  But sometimes you can take it by numbers. And by throwing corpses at them, you can advance. And the Chinese are showing that they really can do it.
  One of the means of deterring Mao's countless hordes is anti-personnel mines. The USSR has a large number of them and can be used against the enormous number of personnel. True, minefields can be bypassed, but the Chinese go straight for the head, attacking with colossal aggression.
  As Mao said: there are too many Chinese to make them all happy!
  New types of weapons are needed with special capabilities. The Chinese even send their children into the attack. And they run barefoot, with their heads shaved, and in rags. As the saying goes, "everything goes."
  Veronica and Agrippina, for example, began using machine guns with a higher rate of fire to clear out such a horde. Some systems are capable of firing up to thirty thousand rounds per minute. However, they overheat too quickly.
  Veronica even sang with enthusiasm:
  We swear to the great Brezhnev,
  Keep your honor and fight to the end...
  Because his power is like the sun,
  Because the country is God's flower!
  Agrippina remarked aggressively, knocking out the Chinese:
  - Does God exist?
  Veronica replied:
  - God is in the soul of every communist!
  The warrior confirmed:
  - Amen! Forward to the victory of communism!
  And Natasha and Zoya are beating the dragons.
  These are the gorgeous girls they are. And the machine guns are crackling.
  Natasha noted:
  - Accuracy is not needed here, but rate of fire is required!
  Zoya confirmed energetically:
  - Yes, it is required! We already do everything too carefully.
  Victoria also fired from the machine gun and energetically noted:
  "This is a war between two civilizations-European and Asian. We are white and closer to Europe."
  Svetlana added with a brave look:
  - Yes, closer! Although Stalin was called Genghis Khan with a telephone!
  And the warriors fired again. And the cascade of bullets rained down.
  Oleg Rybachenko and Margarita Korshunova naturally rose to the occasion. Their children's battalion repelled all attacks. But the Chinese began to break through Mongolia, and the threat of encirclement arose.
  The small army of children began to walk away, slapping their bare feet.
  It was already muddy, and the snow was melting. It's that nasty time of year when there are puddles everywhere and the grass hasn't grown yet.
  Margarita noted with a sweet look:
  - Here we are playing a retreat!
  Oleg noted:
  - Fighting while surrounded would be scary!
  The boy Sasha objected:
  - It's not scary, it's crap!
  The girl Lara noted:
  - In any case, we demonstrated our heroism and fortitude! And we did not disgrace our ancestors!
  Margarita noted:
  - Yes, we are worthy of the pioneers of the Great Patriotic War.
  The boy Petka noticed:
  - But then we fought against the fascists, and now we are fighting against communists just like us!
  Oleg objected:
  - Not with those. Maoism is fascism under red flags. So, it's communist in name only.
  Margarita giggled and noted:
  - That's right, all that glitters is not gold!
  The pioneer girl Olka noted:
  - It"s not for nothing that Stalin called Mao a radish - red on the outside, white on the inside!
  The pioneer boy Sasha, slapping his bare, childish feet, agreed:
  - Yes, in this regard, Stalin was right! Mao turned China into a concentration camp!
  Pioneer girl Lara noted:
  - And unlike Germany, it has an advantage in human resources. That's not great at all!
  Oleg answered in a decisive tone:
  - It's not all about numbers! As Suvorov said, "War is fought not by numbers, but by skill!"
  And the children took and sang in chorus:
  Suvorov taught in fierce battles,
  Hold the Russian flag in glory!
  Suvorov taught us to look ahead,
  And if you stand up, stand to the death!
  Suvorov, brothers, is an example for us,
  He didn't get lost in difficult times!
  Suvorov was a father and brother,
  The last cracker was shared with the fighter!
  And they stopped. Chinese attack aircraft appeared in the sky again. True, there were only six of them, and they had already knocked out almost all of them.
  Oleg didn't launch missiles, but simply aimed his ultrasonic device at the enemy. The planes began to lose control, falling and nosediving.
  The ultrasound was working, Wagner's music was playing.
  Margarita noted with a smile:
  - You must admit there is something mystical in this music!
  Oleg nodded in agreement:
  "It's no wonder Adolf Hitler loved Wagner. He was a frenzied Fuhrer, yet he managed to shake up practically the entire world. In that sense, how could one say he was a great villain!"
  Pioneer girl Clara noted:
  - But Mao wants to surpass him!
  Petka remarked with a sigh:
  - Maybe it will surpass it!
  The Chinese really did suffer so many losses. And Soviet submarines in the Pacific Ocean approached and shelled Beijing. They destroyed several government buildings and a number of factories. That's how they went and did it.
  And then they left virtually unpunished. And long-range bombers also struck Shanghai, destroying yet another of Mao's residences there.
  In response, there were threats. But China was wary of using nuclear weapons; the USSR was much stronger in this regard and could have responded. Even though its doctrine promised not to use them first.
  Anastasia and Akulina also worked on enemy infantry. Both girls look so young: the redhead and the blonde had experience in both World War II and World War I, as well as the Russo-Japanese War. And Anastasia had seen action in the Crimea and the Turkish-Balkan War. They had some glorious times. And they never aged. These are girls of the highest caliber.
  Anastasia sang:
  I believe the spirit will conquer the forces of evil,
  We could finish off Maoism...
  Let there be graves for the enemies,
  We are building true communism!
  Akulina energetically confirmed:
  - We really are building and will continue to build!
  And both girls were again pounding ground targets. For example, they knocked out a couple of rare Chinese Grad missile launchers. The warriors demonstrated their capabilities.
  Anastasia also used cluster munition missiles - they are good against infantry.
  The girls raged and crushed their enemies.
  Soviet troops also attempted a counterattack. Some tanks even arrived from East Germany.
  Among them there were even several flamethrowers, which are top class against infantry.
  And of course, there were also high-powered mortar strikes. They were used en masse. Even the Chinese fled. And the losses they suffered were simply horrific.
  The warrior girl Maria sang:
  Don't give in to Maoism people,
  China won't put us in a bad position...
  I believe we will live under communism,
  And let's build a paradise in the universe!
  CHAPTER No 16.
  In early April, at the cost of enormous losses, the Chinese occupied virtually all of Primorye along the Amur River, with the exception of the blockaded Vladivostok. Khabarovsk also fell, and Mao's troops advanced deeper into the region. Alma-Ata has already been partially captured, and street fighting is underway. The situation is dire.
  It wasn't just Soviet tanks that arrived in Siberia from the GDR, but also volunteers. Here they are, riding a German-made "Thälmann-3" tank to fight the Chinese. This tank has a flamethrower and eight machine guns.
  And it was driven by four German girls: Gerda, Charlotte, Christina and Magda!
  And they fought, of course, in nothing but bikinis and barefoot. Although it's chilly in early April, it warms up quickly, especially in the late afternoon. And even the flamethrower tank itself is hot.
  The girls sent him into the thick of the Chinese horde. And the machine guns were the first to fire.
  Gerda noted:
  - We'll give them hell!
  Christina noted:
  - You have to be careful! They might throw grenades at us!
  Charlotte responded aggressively:
  - And we'll give them a shot! They'll get it!
  Magda noted with a sigh, clicking her bare toes:
  - I don"t want to kill people, but I have to!
  The warriors really did look pretty cool. They were roasting the Chinese troops with fire. Eight machine guns were firing. There was a strong smell of burning. And those smells were disgusting.
  The girls fired machine guns and crushed the troops of the Celestial Empire. And the streams of fire thoroughly fried them.
  Gerda, pressing the joystick buttons with her bare, chiseled feet, noted:
  - We could have won against the Russians if Japan had attacked from the east!
  Charlotte growled, frying the Chinese with fire:
  - We could have done it without Japan. If Hitler hadn't turned out to be such a jerk!
  Christina agreed:
  "Hitler wasn't exactly a genius. If, instead of the Maus and Lion, which proved completely ineffective in practice, they'd invested in the accelerated development of the E-10 and E-25, they might have held the line. Or even more."
  Magda noted with a sweet look:
  - Maybe so. But would we have had an odious fascist regime in power, and would that have brought us happiness?
  Gerda, continuing to fire, noted:
  "Does the GDR really have democracy, like the USSR? Elections do take place, but there's no alternative, and only one candidate per seat, so what can you do? And you don't really trust their honesty. And it's always ninety-nine and a bit!"
  Charlotte agreed with this:
  - There was no democracy under Hitler, and there was none after Hitler.
  Magda noticed, shooting at the Chinese:
  - There was democracy before Hitler. Back then, there was a multi-party system, and the republic was more parliamentary than presidential. There were thirty-five parties before Hitler!
  Christina whistled:
  - Yes, there was democracy in ancient times. But now there's only one word: totalitarianism.
  And the girls continued firing machine guns at the Chinese soldiers.
  Gerda noted with a sweet look:
  - Democracy? Well, I don't know, there's more order under a dictatorship! But democracy is more chaos!
  And she fired a fiery stream. And it passed through the Chinese crowds. And they continued to press forward.
  Charlotte noted with a sweet look, and frying the warriors of the Celestial Empire:
  - Order? Sometimes there's such order that you miss the mess!
  Christina logically noted:
  "Under Hitler, they really dreamed of chaos! Such order would really be awesome!"
  Magda fired at the Maoists and noted:
  "If the Chinese win, it will be worse than under Hitler! They don't even need us as slaves!"
  Gerda agreed with this:
  - Yes! There were few Germans, and even then we were cruel, but we were a cultured and educated nation, so what can you expect from Asia?
  Charlotte giggled and noted, firing from her machine guns:
  "With such losses, even China, with its huge population, wouldn't be enough to reach Germany! And we'll still help!"
  And the girls worked with passion and strength. These are truly warriors of the highest order.
  Fighting raged in other areas as well. The Chinese, having reached the Amur River in Primorye, found themselves up against a water barrier. And there was a fairly strong defensive line there. It was much easier to hold behind a full-flowing river. The Soviet troops repelled the assault on Vladivostok. Even Pioneer detachments took part in the fighting. The weather warmed rapidly, and by April, blossoms were blooming.
  Siberia has a continental climate. Winters are cold, of course, but summers are hot, and springs are wild.
  Overall, it's great. And Vladivostok is located at a latitude south of Crimea. And you can swim there perfectly in the summer.
  The girls are holding the line there too. Here's Anna, the female captain, firing at the Chinese soldiers at the fort. And they're pushing back.
  They're attacking practically every day. And they keep coming. They're literally crawling over the corpses of the Celestial Empire's warriors. And it's truly terrifying.
  Moreover, the Chinese are storming Vladivostok along the entire front line. A terrible situation is emerging. And the fighting is so bloody.
  But the shelling is quite light. So far, the Chinese aren't very good with artillery. Moreover, some of their guns and mortars have been knocked out by aircraft. Soviet aircraft dominate the air. So far, China has nothing to counter this.
  What do they fire? At best, anti-aircraft guns from World War II. They have almost no surface-to-air missiles, and those that do exist are outdated Soviet ones. They are, however, trying to establish their own production in China.
  Anna fends off an attack, with Nicoletta by her side. The warriors are very beautiful. Despite the chill, they prefer to fight in bikinis and barefoot. And frankly, it's great, and helps them repel numerous Chinese attacks.
  Vladivostok is well defended. Fortunately, its forts were reinforced in time, and now it can hold its ground.
  Anna noted with a smile:
  "We're holding our ground well. But the enemy will try to wear us down!"
  Nicoletta confirmed:
  - Let the enemy try! But we will not give in to the adversary!
  And the girls threw their bare feet up in a furious greeting!
  And they launched boomerangs from them. They flew past and cut off the heads of the warriors of the Celestial Empire.
  And the war continues... The Chinese are attacking Vladivostok again. They're moving forward in dense columns. And they don't care about losses under any circumstances. And Mao isn't one to spare his soldiers.
  Anna noted:
  - This is all strange!
  Nicoletta replied:
  - Nothing strange! When there are too many people, they don't feel sorry for him!
  Viola noticed another warrior girl and officer:
  - Why do those who have a lot of money, on the contrary, feel sorry for them and become so greedy?
  Anna laughed and replied:
  - Money goes to money! It's already an axiom!
  And the girls fired a howitzer at the concentration of Chinese infantry.
  The Celestial Empire's warriors really do have little armor. And it's outdated and slow. But they have so much infantry. Try to stop that.
  This is a truly huge problem. There are a lot of women among the fighters. They represent the fair sex, not like the stinking men. And it's so great to be with them.
  And now the machine guns are firing at the Chinese. Anna notes:
  - How many people have perished! But we will still win!
  Nicoletta agreed with a sigh:
  - Yes, we must win! This is our destiny, we can"t live any other way!
  Viola chirped furiously:
  Victory awaits, victory awaits, victory awaits,
  Those who long to break the shackles!
  Victory awaits, victory awaits, victory awaits,
  We will be able to defeat China!
  This is how girls show off their biceps and muscles that can break a crowbar.
  Here are Adala and Agaga, new pilots who arrived from the European part of the USSR. They are excellent fighters. Of course, as per tradition, they fight barefoot and in bikinis. Very active and wonderful girls. And they abandon their multirole aircraft.
  The nature of war is such that there are few air battles in the sky. And fighters are urgently converted into attack aircraft. And they pound ground targets with all their might.
  Adala hit the Chinese soldiers, firing fragmentation and rocket missiles from her underbelly and noted:
  - Quite a simple job!
  Agatha also fired a rocket at the group of Mao's warriors and noted with a smile:
  - But we need to choose targets so that each missile is used most rationally!
  And the girls burst into laughter. That's how active they are. And they act with strength of character.
  The girls were once practicing at a shooting range. One guy claimed to be a better shot than them. So, the two pilots had a bet and won a hundred out of a hundred. Then they forced the loser to kiss their bare, round heels. He fell prostrate and obediently, even with some enthusiasm, kissed the girls' bare, slightly dusty soles. And it was great. He liked it too.
  Adala remarked with a sweet look, while slashing at the Chinese troops:
  - How wonderful it is to be a woman! It's so easy to fool men! They fall for you so easily!
  Agatha agreed:
  - Yes, they do! And that's the beauty of the world!
  And both girls dropped their last missiles on Mao's army and turned back to refuel. Now that was truly a momentous occasion. How warriors fight. You can't stand against such women.
  Overall, the Chinese were on the offensive, but Soviet tank pincers were pounding the infantry with counterattacks. Tanks increasingly carried machine guns, which were hastily converted.
  Within the USSR itself, some changes were being made. The workday was extended, and schoolchildren were required to do community service after school. Rations had not yet been introduced, although food shortages were likely to arise.
  The US was willing to sell weapons to China, but what if Mao was willing to pay? Giving them away for free or under Lend-Lease was not something the dictatorial and communist regime of the great helmsman wanted.
  Moreover, China is much worse than the USSR in terms of repression.
  That's why these bloody assaults were going on. And China even achieved some success.
  Oleg and Margarita, along with their team, took up a new line of defense. The situation was dire. The Chinese had managed to capture most of Mongolia and surrounded its capital. So the front had stretched out. And then tanks came into play to cut off the Maoists.
  And the child heroes repelled another attack on their positions. And they mowed down the advancing warriors of the Celestial Empire. And again, ultrasound and missiles were used. So much rained down on Mao's troops.
  Oleg fired at the Chinese hordes, launching missiles. Child heroes also launched charges from catapults. The assault continued, one wave after another. And it was a very aggressive attack.
  Margarita chirped:
  A smile will make everyone feel brighter,
  And to an elephant and even to a small snail...
  So let it be everywhere on Earth,
  Like light bulbs, smiles meet!
  The young warriors have indeed dispersed. They have no time to rest. They are forced to fight constantly. Such is the combat situation.
  You don't even have time to play chess.
  Even during the Great Patriotic War, there were lulls on the front lines. But here, there are assaults every day, and in large numbers. It's all terribly exhausting.
  Oleg noted with a sad look:
  "Yeah, that's a good alternative-fighting communist China. It's hard to even believe we've become bosom buddies in the twenty-first century!"
  Margarita, launching the rockets, noted:
  There are many reasons. One is that both the Soviet leadership and Mao were very arrogant. Although attempts at rapprochement with China began even during the Soviet era. First under Andropov, then Chernenko. And then under Gorbachev. That's just the way it went.
  Boy Vova asked:
  - What are you talking about?
  Oleg exclaimed:
  - This is our big secret - believe me or not!
  And the kids started firing at the enemy again. And they launched an ultrasound, which is so effective at firing at infantry. It's truly a cool thing.
  And again the hordes of Chinese troops turned into complete mush.
  Part of the USSR, especially Primorye, was occupied by the Chinese. This led to the emergence of partisan detachments.
  Although it"s not so easy when you"re dealing with such a large army.
  During the very first partisan raid, the Chinese carried out punitive raids, burning and killing everyone in sight, sparing neither women nor children.
  They tortured the pioneer Leshka. Although he was only a child of about twelve, they made no allowance for his age.
  They poured ice water on the naked boy, then boiling water, and then ice water again. They scalded the poor boy until he was covered in blisters. Then they pierced him with a ramrod and roasted him alive over a large fire.
  They didn't stand on ceremony with the partisans here. They treated them worse than the Nazis. They said, "Just try to express the slightest dissatisfaction. You'll get what you deserve."
  Besides, why would the Chinese really need the local population? They'll take their own and settle them there. Although there's plenty of room for everyone in Siberia. So Mao doesn't spare them.
  The old dictator acts using fascist methods, considering them the most effective.
  Meanwhile, fierce fighting was raging at the front. Alma-Ata finally fell by mid-April. It wasn't particularly well-equipped for defense. And the Chinese weren't minding the cost. Thus, the first Soviet capital of a union republic was lost in this war. An unpleasant psychological and economic fact.
  And Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan, found itself surrounded. But there were mountains there, and it could still hold out for a while.
  Natasha and her team operated the Dragon machine guns, effectively mowing down the Chinese hordes.
  The work with the machine guns was extensive, including mowing.
  Natasha noted with a smile:
  - We take the enemy by the horns!
  Zoya objected:
  - Let's even trim his beard!
  Victoria giggled and noted the machine gun fire:
  - Yes, our haircut is super!
  And the Chinese soldiers really did pile up in heaps, or rather, in heaps.
  And Svetlana even managed to fire a lethal charge from a mortar. What a hit.
  And the Chinese scattered in all directions, like splashes of water from a falling stone.
  Mao wasn't happy about the idea of fighting the USSR, even if China had successes, even at the operational level.
  The Celestial Empire's soldiers are trying to make something homemade. Specifically, they're making something like a Faust-type cartridge. Soviet tanks are a powerful force. And they're really annoying the Chinese.
  Here's Elena, for example, attacking in a T-64. Three girls are with her: Elizaveta, Ekaterina, and Evrosinya.
  The Soviet vehicle was very good for its time, with its active armor, fairly maneuverable, and a top-notch gun. Moreover, it's better to fire high-explosive shells rather than armor-piercing ones.
  The girls are firing from the tank. Four additional machine guns have been attached to it. And they work brilliantly.
  Elena took it and sang:
  The thunder rages, the storm of war rumbles,
  You have escaped from the pit of hell...
  Satan cast you down to earth,
  To take revenge, the knight must return!
  Elizabeth fired from the machine guns and chirped:
  - Glory to the USSR!
  Ekaterina confirmed:
  - Glory to the Soviet heroes!
  Euphrosyne noted:
  - It's a shame to kill the Chinese, it's not their fault that they are being driven to the slaughter!
  And all four girls exclaimed in chorus:
  - USSR - hurray!
  And their tank kept moving. And it rained machine guns down on the enemy. And piled up mountains of corpses. And so many died because of it. And other Soviet tanks were in action, too. At that time, the best tank in the world was the T-64, and they were performing brilliantly. But the Chinese were still fighting the old-fashioned way.
  Well, they might also try to throw grenades. And sometimes they succeed.
  Elena recalled the times of Peter the Great. Back then, the Russian army introduced the bayonet-knife, which was attached to the barrel, and the first grenades.
  During Lenin's time and in the early 1930s, all tsars were unequivocally bad, and Peter the Great was no exception. But then, as Stalin's personality cult grew stronger, people began to say that not all tsars were bad. And Peter the Great was the first to emerge. Then, during the Great Patriotic War, heroes like Nakhimov, Suvorov, Ushakov, Kutuzov, and Ivan the Terrible emerged.
  Stalin's propaganda raised them. Although selectivity remained. For example, Peter Alexeevich was a good tsar, while his father, Alexei Mikhailovich, was not so much. But Alexei Mikhailovich annexed more than half of Ukraine, including Kyiv, the Smolensk region, and vast expanses of Siberia to Russia.
  Perhaps this was because under this tsar, the rebellion of Stenka Razin, who was considered an unambiguously positive hero in Soviet times, was suppressed. And so he was considered a reactionary. And Nicholas II considered Alexei Mikhailovich the best tsar. Indeed, in some ways, he was superior to his famous son.
  In particular, Peter the Great commanded tobacco smoking. His father, Alexei Mikhailovich, on the contrary, banned tobacco, especially in the army. And because of tobacco, several times more people died prematurely worldwide over the centuries than during World War II.
  However, it seems Mao wants to outdo Hitler. And his troops just keep coming.
  The tactics of brutal assaults. And not without success; sometimes breakthroughs are achieved. Moreover, the Soviet command under Brezhnev is still trying to preserve personnel and not withdraw troops to the death, as under Stalin. Although, even under Joseph Vissarionovich, troops sometimes retreated and broke out of encirclement. And despite the order "not a step back"-for example, during Meinstein's counterattack, Soviet troops were allowed to leave Kharkov and break out of encirclement. In other words, there are no rules without exceptions. And the Chinese are pushing on.
  Homemade airplanes have also appeared in the skies on the part of the Celestial Empire. And they fight with fury. Although primitive, they could cause some problems, especially if they can be produced in large quantities.
  This is also a problem that is looming.
  Mao demands success and victory. And the Chinese masses are once again mounting the assault. These are mostly men. Incidentally, more men are born in China than women. And they are advancing with colossal force.
  Anyuta and her team fight the avalanche. They also send gifts of annihilation at the enemy. The warriors are very brave, and act with both strength and cunning.
  For example, using a live wire. And how the Chinese soldiers scream from the deadly electricity. Yes, that really is very cruel.
  But let's say it's effective. And it really does work. Well, and the girls.
  Although it must be said, war is a cruel and dirty business. But it's also interesting. It's no wonder all computer games are connected to war in one way or another. Well, maybe except for quests.
  So Anyuta and Mirabella went and launched deadly fireballs at the Chinese troops.
  And how many fires have broken out because of this. And flesh burns like hell.
  And the girls are having fun.
  Anyuta noted:
  "In any other situation, I would sympathize. But now we're defending our homeland."
  Mirabella agreed with this:
  - Yes, exactly! And that's why we are ruthless!
  Maria added with a laugh:
  - And don't think that we're evil. That's just life!
  Olga noted with a sarcastic look, cutting down the Chinese with machine gun bursts:
  - Yes, it"s certainly a nightmare, but nothing can be done!
  The Komsomol girl Nadezhda agreed:
  - It looks weird! But we have no other choice!
  And the girls took and threw grenades at the enemy with their bare toes. And they tore the Chinese apart.
  And the battles raged on and on... And the waves rolled in. Against the Chinese stood the advanced technology of the USSR, which was still at the forefront of the world at the time.
  In particular, the Uragan system works quite well, covering large areas. And when used in large numbers, it can destroy large masses of infantry and hold back enemy advances.
  Among the combat vehicles, there is also the Soviet T-10. This is a heavy tank weighing fifty tons. And for it, high-explosive and fragmentation shells are preferred.
  Now that's a real shot, just what you need. And this tank, or rather tanks, works for the Chinese masses.
  And it works pretty well. Just like self-propelled guns of all types. And when they do fire, it's incredibly lethal.
  Oleg and Margarita and their team of children are fighting off the infantry's attempts to bury them in corpses. It's getting warmer, and the corpses are starting to rot and stink, giving off a foul odor. Which is extremely unpleasant.
  Oleg even sang:
  What a stench, what a stench,
  The score is in our favor: one hundred - zero!
  Margarita replied with a sigh:
  - The tragedy of war!
  And the children launched their deadly missiles again. To enhance their explosive effect, they added something to the sawdust. And now they hit much harder and killed many more.
  Pioneer boy Sasha noted:
  - What a mess!
  Pioneer girl Lara squeaked:
  - There's more to come! There's more to come! There's more to come oh, oh, oh!
  The pioneer boy Petka noted:
  - No problem, we'll still fight!
  And with his bare toes he tossed the packet of explosives on wings. Now that's a lethal effect.
  And the children sang in chorus with enthusiasm:
  They earned immortal glory in battles,
  crushing enemies as if they were eating chocolate...
  The warriors achieved many accomplishments,
  Let there be luck - a happy layout!
  And again, it's as if the enemy is hit with ultrasound. And the masses of infantry suddenly disintegrate and freeze. This is truly a colossal superpower. And the children act with an ineradicable and admirable force.
  Oleg noted with a smile:
  - They often fight with numbers, but they win solely with skill!
  Margarita added, launching another missile at the Chinese:
  - War is such an applied science that you just want to apply it with obscenities no matter the outcome!
  CHAPTER No 17.
  Oleg Rybachenko was transferred to a different mission. In this case, it was the defense of Mount Vysokaya in Port Arthur. Its fall initiated the shelling of the Pacific squadron, which led to its destruction and sinking. Port Arthur itself, too, became much more difficult to defend after the loss of this mountain, as it dominated the other positions.
  So Oleg and Margarita-now immortal children who look about twelve years old-were tasked with defending their positions on this mountain. If they could hold it, there was a chance that Tsarist Russia would win the war. Moreover, two more squadrons were expected to arrive from the Baltic. Then the Russians would have the upper hand.
  Oleg and Margarita-those eternal children-landed just as the assault was taking place. And they swung their magic swords.
  They lengthened, and with each swing, a dozen samurai were cut down.
  Oleg exclaimed with enthusiasm:
  - Banzai!
  And the boy's bare feet threw fiery pulsars, scattering Japanese soldiers in different directions.
  Margarita did the same herself. She swung her swords. She cut the Land of the Rising Sun's army soldiers in half and squealed:
  - For communism and tsarism in one bottle!
  After which she hit the enemy with fiery clots, using her bare toes.
  This is the combat impact of very cool and extremely developed children.
  The Japanese threw their main and best forces into the assault on Mount Vysokaya.
  At the same time, diversionary attacks were being carried out in other directions. This was an extremely wise decision. The samurai brought up reserves. Meanwhile, more and more forces from Russia were arriving at Kuropatkin's side. The Tsarist Empire outnumbered the Japanese Empire three to one in population and five to one in trained reservists. So the Land of the Rising Sun was bound to run out of soldiers soon. And time was on the Tsarist side. But internal developments in Russia were dire. Under these circumstances, the fall of Port Arthur could have provoked riots and mass unrest.
  And here it's crucial to hold this fortress, at any cost. And, of course, to preserve the fleet. Without the Pacific Squadron, the balance of power would not be in Rozhdestvensky's favor. Plus, there's the possibility of lifting the blockade. In principle, had a more experienced and talented commander in the Far East than Kuropatkin been present, the blockade might have been prevented, or Port Arthur might have been lifted outright.
  But the Tsar, unfortunately, couldn't find anything better. Moreover, he was apparently guided by the principle: "For one beaten, two unbeaten are given." Putin, too, stubbornly refused to replace Chief of the General Staff Gerasimov, despite all his failures and his considerable age. Putin is still considered intelligent, while Nicholas apparently also believed that Kuropatkin was learning, and then he would raise his level of skill and turn the tide of the war.
  Oleg, of course, approached it from a different point of view: teaching a fool is a waste of time!
  And now he and Margarita were hacking at the advancing Japanese. And they were crawling like ants. The samurai were mostly trying to press from the flanks, so the boy and girl spread out along the edges of the mountain. They had magic swords that could extend to a hundred meters or more, cutting through anything. And on their bare toes were rings, magical artifacts that lashed out at the Japanese troops with gouts of fire or bolts of lightning from a distance.
  And it worked out really well. The boy and girl fought like heroes. And Oleg performed a windmill and cut down a ton of Japanese-at least a hundred and fifty-with a couple of swings.
  Then he fired a pulsar, and an entire, exploded battery rose into the air. That's how the boy got going. And Margarita, too, was hacking and slashing at the Japanese cannons and machine guns with lightning bolts. And she was quite energetic. The boy and the girl took on the Japanese like crazy and cut them down.
  And the samurai troops kept moving like ants. There seemed to be an endless number of them. The Japanese resembled the soldiers in "Entente," just as fearless and yet so stupid. And they were mowed down by the machine guns of the defense soldiers and the childish, magical swords. How hyperactive and cool it all seemed. And the samurai kept moving. And there were many of them, and they were brave and strong.
  Oleg cuts them down with swings of his swords and sings:
  We are angels of harsh goodness,
  We crush and kill everyone, without mercy...
  When the horde invaded the country,
  Let's prove that they are not monkeys at all!
  
  We have known pain since early childhood,
  We've been used to fighting since we were in diapers...
  Let the feat of the knights be glorified
  Although my figure looks terribly thin!
  
  Believe me, you can"t stop me from living beautifully,
  It is even more beautiful to die beautifully...
  So don't cry in tears, baby,
  We are links of a monolithic collective!
  
  And the land of the Soviets is soft,
  In it, every person is always free!
  Know the peoples, one family,
  And the Russian knight is brave and noble!
  
  It is given to comprehend the feat of the knights,
  To the one who is brave in his own proud hearts...
  Believe me, our life is not a movie,
  We are under cover: gray, black!
  
  A cascade of streams poured out like diamonds,
  The fighter laughs like a child himself...
  After all, you are a child born of Rus',
  And the voice is young, loud, very clear!
  
  Here is the dragon of a hundred heads defeated,
  We will show the world our calling...
  We are millions of people from different countries,
  Let us immediately feel the breath of the Lord!
  
  Then everyone will be resurrected after death,
  And paradise will be beautiful and blooming...
  The Most High will be glorified on Earth,
  And the edge will bloom in radiance, it will become thicker!
  That's how the boy cut down the advancing Japanese. And he also slashed at them with his bare toes, using pulsars. And he did it very aggressively. And Margarita, too, pounded and scribbled at the Japanese. And she did it very energetically. It's impossible to count how many enemies fell at once.
  And mounds of corpses grow beneath Mount Vysokaya. Now that's a real battle. And a mass of dead.
  Oleg recalled various computer games. In them, most soldiers really did attack fearlessly. However, in some games, when losses were sustained, panic and retreat could set in. And then there were games like "Cleopatra," where the soldiers' morale would plummet simply by standing in a field, outside the barracks. And if they were held for too long, they'd flee to the barracks. And if the distance was great, the losses were enormous.
  Incidentally, "Cleopatra," although an old game, is challenging. In particular, the ship's rowers would get tired during battles or long journeys. Which, I must say, made the game even more interesting.
  But the Japanese advanced without fear. And Oleg, who continued to cut them down-thankfully, he's immortal and never tires-was curious whether the Japanese felt fear. And what about their instinct for self-preservation? Have they been completely brainwashed?
  Incidentally, in "Entente," a tank can mow down infantry endlessly without tiring or running out of steam, and its ammunition never runs out. In some games, ammunition is limited and the barrels wear out.
  And some don't have this option. These are the monster children. They are such amazing fighters.
  The boy-terminator continued to hack and slash without stopping. It's good to have an immortal body; it can swing without stopping. Like in computer games, for example, where a warrior can hack and slash for hours on end in automatic mode, if that option is available. Let's just say it's funny.
  But here, everything is real. You can kill, but the Japanese can't. And Margarita is just as much of a girl. They are immortal, which has many advantages, but they must help higher powers carry out missions. And here, of course, we must help Russia first and foremost. Especially since the defeat in the Russo-Japanese War began the decline of the Russian Empire. And then came the change of government and the revolution. Had he won the war with the Japanese, the Tsar's authority would have been high, and his people wouldn't have overthrown him in February, despite all the difficulties and losses. And what about the losses? The Tsar's army, with a population of 180 million, lost 1.5 million under Nicholas II, and the monarch was overthrown. And Putin, with a population of 140 million, lost over three million killed and survived. So can Tsar Nicholas II be blamed?
  And in this war, Russia lost only fifty thousand people killed and died of wounds, while Japan lost three times more, meaning even less reason to rebel against the Tsar.
  These people are stupid. And you can't argue with that.
  Oleg, continuing to chop, took up and sang at the top of his voice:
  We are knights of sword and fire,
  We'll tear them all apart at once, like animals!
  We will issue an invoice - a penalty has accrued,
  Don't become a parrot, our knight!
  
  We will become cool like eagles,
  Let's sweep away all the evil spirits at once!
  Know our cool sons of the Fatherland,
  We throw down our challenge into eternity!
  
  How simply beautifully the war rages,
  In which nations burn...
  Satan came from the underworld for us,
  The fascist freaks are following him!
  
  We girls will give you a good punch in the face,
  We'll break the fascists like a branch...
  And then our soldier will become the master,
  Let the roses of May bloom profusely!
  
  We are capable of achieving a lot, know,
  Raise your powers above the stars...
  And so, great warrior, fight and dare,
  We will make menacing graves!
  
  You'll see, he'll be a warrior then,
  Everything is new and like maple...
  And I believe that trouble will pass us by in battle,
  Become a seasoned warrior knight!
  
  Here with a powerful blow he mowed down an entire regiment,
  And with him, two regiments were wiped out...
  And may the vile dragon Fuhrer die,
  And we have glorious miles to the stars!
  
  Now the Kaiser shed tears of fear,
  With my plea for mercy!
  We have a lot of violent forces,
  We'll be in full dress!
  
  When we enter this Berlin with three colors,
  And Tsar Nicholas becomes God,
  The people will decide the path in their infinity of forces,
  Don't judge the monarch so harshly!
  
  The trouble over the Fatherland will not disappear then,
  There will be greatness and the Sun...
  The Kaiser's evil horde will disperse,
  Let the heart beat in longing!
  
  We will go through it with a beautiful girl,
  Across our Russian expanses!
  And it will be great for us as a family, together,
  I believe happiness will come soon!
  The boy-terminator sang so beautifully. And he cut down the Japanese without mercy or hesitation. Now that was a truly tough fighter.
  And it's clear that he and a girl can do something like this-beyond anything. Now that's a real Terminator boy.
  And the girl is also a fighter, so to speak, from God.
  And it really shows something so amazing and combative.
  The Japanese can't resist such children. Both Oleg Rybachenko and Margarita Korshunova are slaughtering them.
  The Japanese were outmanned and the attacks petered out. It took some time to bring up reserves from the second echelon. A temporary lull ensued. Meanwhile, around thirty thousand Japanese died in one day, and only killed.
  That's how much the assault on Mount Vysokaya cost them. Meanwhile, the boy and girl retreated to rest. Russian soldiers surrounded them and began asking what was going on.
  Oleg and Margarita told them some tall tales. Then they ate some fish soup and went to bed.
  Oleg dreamed that something had happened during World War II. That the Führer hadn't attacked the USSR, but had continued the war with Britain. However, it wasn't long before, after the British were routed in Egypt and Malta and Gibraltar were captured, Churchill asked the Germans for peace. And history took a different path. A less bloody one. The Germans acquired a vast colonial empire. And their economy grew significantly. But Hitler didn't live long-he died in 1950. And then troubles began in Germany. But nothing significant would have happened if Stalin hadn't quietly launched a liberation campaign in Europe, amassing enormous forces. And Soviet troops were soon in Berlin and Vienna. Oleg Rybachenko didn't have time to see what happened next; the Japanese launched another assault, and the alarm sounded.
  And so the boy and girl began to hack away at the new Japanese corps. And they did it with great energy with their swords. You could say they were truly exceptional. These warriors are young and energetic. They work with great vigor. And under their blows, the Japanese keep falling. And every swing means a hundred heads are chopped off, or warriors from the Land of the Rising Sun are cut in half. And they act with colossal energy.
  And the children, without further ado, launch fiery and deadly pulsars from their bare toes. And they descend upon the samurai with great, overwhelming destructive power. And so the children of murderous power unleashed.
  Oleg took it and sang:
  We stood up, took our sabers in our hands,
  The scarlet dawn was rising...
  And the samurai flew to the ground,
  Under the pressure of steel and fire!
  And the boy continued to hack with great, frantic energy and force. And more and more enemy soldiers fell. And they were cut in half. This truly was a hellish onslaught. And without any mercy, the young warriors affected the enemy. And when the pulsars struck, there was another mountain of charred corpses.
  The Terminator Girl noted:
  - For the glory of tsarism, may we have victories!
  The boy-terminator confirmed:
  - That's right, yes they will!
  And the young warriors will swing their swords again. And with great fury they will chop off the enemy's heads. Meanwhile, the Japanese are bringing more and more reserves into the battle. And countless samurai forces will crawl forward like ants.
  And there are many of them, these slain samurai. And not only them, of course; many Japanese were mobilized. And Oleg Rybachenko hacked away with force and fury.
  There are a lot of crows in the sky and we should take advantage of this.
  The boy and girl started whistling. And they whistled so fast and shrilly that the crows had heart attacks and fell on the heads of the Japanese soldiers, smashing their heads and crushing their skulls. And a mass of the Celestial Empire's warriors simply croaked and died. Now that was pretty cool.
  Oleg noted with a smile:
  "Yes, it's a shame to kill people, but there's such chaos here that it all feels like a computer game. And you feel no pity."
  Margarita replied with a sigh:
  "Alas, such battles truly harden the spirit. You become like a death machine!"
  And the children began hacking and slashing at their enemies with renewed, frantic vigor. It was sheer enthusiasm. And at the same time, pity and doubt-after all, they were killing living people. These weren't some bits of information, like in a computer game. That's how things work here.
  The boy and girl were working. And their swords were certainly something. And they were striking the Japanese artillery with pulsars and lightning bolts from their bare feet. Tanks didn't exist yet. Nor did aircraft, which made things easier. But machine guns were already there, albeit few in number. Oleg thought that perhaps it was precisely because of the presence of tanks and aircraft that the military-economic strategy of the First World War was more interesting than that of the Russo-Japanese War.
  Russia failed to win both wars due to the stupidity of the elite and the common people, who succumbed to the promises of provocateurs and staged mass unrest, which they mistakenly called revolutions. Although this is foolishness. Why would people rebel? And it wouldn't have been difficult to bring both wars to victory and their logical conclusion. In any case, the Russian army could easily have recaptured Mukand with twice the number of soldiers and artillery.
  Well, okay, they won't give up the high mountain. And it's not for nothing that they have magic swords in their hands and magic rings on the toes of their bare feet. And they will prove themselves.
  And they show it with impressive force. And the child terminators give the Japanese a good beating. Overwhelming them not by the thousands, but by the tens of thousands.
  They continued to pound until the samurai ran out of manpower and became exhausted. The troops began to grind against the Russian positions.
  And again, a lull in the fighting. As the saying goes, Nogi was missing sixty thousand soldiers and officers.
  And this, of course, is a major loss. And the Japanese forces around Port Arthur have been significantly depleted. Now, to continue their attacks, the Japanese need additional reinforcements. If the troops opposing Kuropatkin are withdrawn, the Russians could go on the offensive. And transferring newly formed units from Japan will take time.
  Ultimately, the Japanese decided not to weaken the front against Kuropatkin, but to transfer troops from the Metropolis.
  So Oleg and Margarita had a break. But there was nothing much to do in the cold fortress. And sitting around was so boring. There were no televisions, no radios, not even theaters. Although, no, there was a theater in Port Arthur, and even the Empress once donated some worn-out dresses for it.
  But in any case, the children weren't content to sit quietly. So they decided to make a sortie. And not just any sort of sortie, but to attack the Japanese fleet. Which, it must be said, was, after all, strong.
  The young warriors set out on a small boat. Japanese ships were sailing nearby, keeping watch to ensure the Russians didn't break through or that supplies didn't arrive.
  Oleg and Margarita chose a larger battleship and, using their hands and bare toes, climbed aboard.
  The carnage then began. The Terminar children began slaughtering the Japanese sailors with swords that could pierce any metal or flesh, though they refrained from launching their magical pulsars for now.
  Be that as it may, the young warriors waged a fierce battle and crushed their opponents. And so they went and killed everyone. Then they steered the battleship, with the stokers still alive and the engine room unblocked, onto the adjacent ship. This, it must be said, was a good move. And then the two battleships collided. They exploded simultaneously, the armor cracked, and they began to sink.
  And the immortal children jumped off and chose to save themselves.
  But that's not enough, of course. Why couldn't they sink a couple more ships this way? And the kids did the same thing with the Mikaso, killing every sailor on deck. They captured and tied up Admiral Togo, and pushed that battleship into another.
  Thus, the four largest vessels of the Japanese fleet were destroyed, and the admiral was taken prisoner.
  And the child monsters returned triumphantly to Port Arthur. And the Japanese fleet suffered irreparable losses.
  So, after such a slap in the face, the Japanese command didn't wait for reinforcements to arrive from the mother country. They withdrew half the troops opposing General Kuropatkin, hoping he would remain passive, and sent them to storm Port Arthur, and especially Mount Vysokaya.
  Well, Oleg and Margarita were already waiting for them there.
  The boy and girl began hacking at the advancing samurai with great passion and fury. And their magical weapons became even more sophisticated and deadly. The children also launched deadly bolts of lightning from rings on their bare toes. Such were their active and aggressive fighters.
  But children are also kind. They look like angels, but inside they have souls as tender as flowers. And they're so wonderful and cool.
  And so the swords swing, and whole mounds of corpses grow. And the soldiers of the Empire of the Rising Sun fall and fall.
  And now the crows are gathering above them again. And this brings anxiety to the soul.
  Russian artillery works too, fortunately the children suppress the Japanese artillery with pulsar strikes and lightning bolts from the magical artifacts on their feet. And this truly is a deadly effect. Not the easiest, to say the least.
  But it's effective and destructive. And what isn't done. And the children work.
  And Oleg Rybachenko took it and started singing again, making it up as he went:
  Children fight against the dragon,
  They fight furiously, their swords flashing...
  I believe there will be peace on the planet,
  We trample the air with our bare feet!
  
  Girls are fighters of the world,
  They fight like real titans...
  The victory will be sung in poems,
  The evil tyrants are cast into the abyss!
  
  What does a dragon mean to us, even if it has millions of heads,
  We'll boldly chop him into cabbage...
  Legions of brave children are running,
  We will not dull our treasure sword!
  
  We can fight bravely, guys,
  Even if an army of orcs attacks...
  Fire a burst from the machine gun,
  So that the battle does not last long!
  
  God will be with us in our beautiful hearts,
  Young boys and girls are holy...
  You know it's dangerous to fight with us,
  The Lord, crucified for salvation, is with us!
  
  Fairies and trolls are also beautiful,
  Elves and dwarves in a charming world...
  We go on the attack as a team with children,
  I know we will be pure in heart!
  
  So boys and girls fight,
  May you be with courage, eternally beautiful...
  And you don"t cling to the letter of the word,
  Let's drink some playful champagne!
  
  There will be a victory over the orc, the dragon,
  Let's become stronger, more beautiful, kinder...
  The evil one will receive a thrashing and defeat,
  Although this battle is, alas, a lottery!
  
  Come on, light up the world with your smile,
  Make a move very strong and fast...
  You do not anger the Lord God,
  With the heart of a child, tender and pure!
  
  Here at last the lightning flashed,
  The sword separated evil rage from malice...
  Children are free - free birds,
  Dragons became minced meat with chops!
  
  I see our ancestors looking at us with love,
  Their sons and daughters are in the best light...
  Even though we are up to our ears in blood,
  I believe it will be heaven on the planet!
  The battle raged on for many more hours, until the Japanese were completely worn down. And the infantry was overwhelmed. Or rather, its shoveling. And so many enemies were destroyed.
  Oleg and Margarita, however, didn't limit themselves to Mount Vysokaya this time. They emerged from Port Arthur and attacked the Japanese, launching a brutal and aggressive attack. And then they started attacking again. A dozen children fought alongside them. These boys and girls, barefoot, also charged forward, cutting down the enemy. "And I will begin to destroy you, Japanese." And then the children's team took action. And the Port Arthur garrison also launched an attack.
  And lo and behold, the Japanese finally gave in and fled. And the Russian army chased them off. And such things happen.
  Oleg and Margarita started chasing the samurai. War is interesting. Yes, computer games have such great ideas about power. The children are very active, waving their swords like propeller blades.
  Superman kids act like this with all their phenomenal cosmic powers. And it's wonderful and cool.
  And so the battle comes to an end... The boy and the girl killed so many enemies with aggressive force.
  In short, all the Japanese were killed. That was the end of the children's mission. And they returned to base.
  And after this, Kuropatkin was able to finish off the samurai and Port Arthur was unblocked.
  And then everything was much easier... Rozhdestvensky's squadron arrived and after that Japan was defeated at sea.
  Peace was signed. Japan ceded Taiwan and the Kuril Islands to Russia. And Russia took control of Manchuria and Korea.
  And in Russia, absolutism remained. And with that, history changed, but a different story is needed.
  CHAPTER No 18.
  So, what is Oleg Rybachenko's new mission? In this case, another story, not an alternative one, but a cosmic one. What's more interesting?
  A boy and a girl are traveling on a starship. The children are sharing a cabin, playing strategy games. They're churning out spaceships and fighting. And it's interesting. The single-seat fighters were the first to engage. They were slicing and dicing through space. And they were drawing fiery streaks in the vacuum, scattering hyperplasmic fragments like multicolored confetti.
  Boats and frigates also entered the fray. The smaller combat starships were the first to engage. It was a real riot. So many downed vehicles, and electronic units shattered into pieces.
  Oleg noted with a smile:
  - Scientific progress has developed, but wars remain!
  Margarita giggled and said:
  - Yes, that's the law of the universe - continuous wars! And this is bitter for us!
  The boy and girl continued to play the computer strategy game. Cruisers and battleships began to appear. And even space battleships, which looked like monsters, followed them. Now the destructive impact had truly begun.
  Oleg noted:
  - The game is fun! You can run the technologies over and over again.
  Margarita noted with a childish smile:
  - Of course! But no game can replace reality!
  The children continued their amusing entertainment. Indeed, even though they were old, who could resist such entertainment? Star wars, especially, are so captivating.
  Oleg Rybachenko thought that perhaps Putin had been fighting with Ukraine for so long that he enjoyed playing the game of war. Especially since you don't earn any, and you can't send your children to the front. But Stalin, less than four years of the Great Patriotic War, was enough, and he didn't want to continue fighting America and its allies! True, there was also the Korean War, but it wasn't waged by Soviet troops themselves, but by proxy forces, North Korea and China. The Soviet Union only supported itself with air power. But that war, too, was bloody. Although the bloodiest since World War II was the Russo-Ukrainian War. And that is a great tragedy.
  Meanwhile, Oleg and Margarita were playing virtual reality. It was absolutely beautiful when the thermoquark rockets exploded. They flared up like supernovas. And it really did blaze, like real buds blooming on black velvet. That's how amazing it all was. And beautiful without any concessions.
  And how magnificent are the multicolored streaks from blasters, lasers, and masers. This truly is such a devastating impact, and the enormous hologram of the computer where such a game is taking place flashes.
  Oleg licks his lips and says:
  - This is trigonometry!
  Margarita laughs and replies:
  - Yes, exactly!
  The eternal children play and try to improve their starships. In particular, why not, for example, make the force field surrounding large ships one and a half dimensional? That would also be a powerful force. And, one might even say, a colossal one. And it would repel virtually all attacks.
  Although special hyperchronoplasmic missiles could be used against it, these weapons also affect time and are capable of causing significant turbulence in a vacuum.
  Oleg, with a smile that sparkled with the pearls of his childish, but rather large, teeth, sang:
  Humanity has iron technology,
  Certainly necessary and very useful...
  Still, I enjoy the people's miracles more,
  The tablecloth is self-assembling, the shoes are fast!
  Margarita continued enthusiastically:
  - I believe that people don"t say goodbye to a fairy tale,
  And they will remain true friends forever!
  They could have played for a while longer, but then a signal sounded-the transport starship had arrived. It was time to disembark. The children headed for the exit.
  Oleg was wearing only shorts, and Margarita a light tunic. The children, of course, were barefoot. And for good reason: it's both more comfortable and more pleasant to walk that way. And in the sky above the planet, there were four suns. One was red, another yellow, a third green, and a fourth blue. And they shone with extraordinary brightness.
  The boy and girl's bare feet began to burn, but they were so calloused from years of walking barefoot in all weathers that the children simply ignored it. And so they slapped their tanned feet against the scorching surface of the spaceport. And it looked absolutely wonderful.
  Oleg noted:
  - It's good when things are cool and unusual like this!
  Margarita agreed:
  - This is lovely!
  The children encountered a three-headed ostrich. Apparently mistaking them for celebrities, it asked for an autograph. Afterward, the young team moved on. A penguin with two squid tentacles on its head darted past them. It hissed:
  - Walk backwards
  Do everything the other way around!
  Oleg squeaked with a smile:
  - What a shot! Funny!
  Margarita giggled:
  - Space extreme sportsman!
  The young warriors continued onward. Two turtles flew past with crocodile tails. Next came a pair of elves-a young man and a young woman. They resembled human teenagers, very beautiful, but with lynx ears. Also magnificent specimens.
  Oleg noted with a smile:
  There is no one more beautiful than Mother Elf,
  Fight for her, boy...
  There is no more beautiful country in the universe,
  Strike a blow against the evil orcs!
  Margarita, with an unexpectedly serious look, remarked:
  - Have you forgotten what our mission is?
  The boy-terminator remembered:
  "Well, yes, of course! We have to find the stolen galaxy! It seems to be enclosed in a small ball." The young warrior looked around and asked. "Who do you think stole it?"
  The terminator girl replied:
  - I think it's either Baba Yaga or the old woman Shapoklyak! They're both capable of such nasty things!
  Oleg grinned and asked:
  - And what is Baba Yaga on this planet?
  Margarita giggled and replied:
  - No, Old Lady Shapoklyak is right here. And she's suspected of stealing the galaxy!
  The warrior boy exclaimed:
  - Wow... I know she's mean!
  Margarita confirmed:
  - As she sang: whoever helps people is wasting their time! You can't become famous by doing good deeds!
  Oleg noted:
  - I think I can feel where old lady Shapoklyak is! Come on, follow me!
  And the Terminator boy took it. The girl followed him. A cool space city spread out before the children. It often had asphalt flowing down the streets. Moreover, the streams were of different colors and shades. They resembled the colors of the rainbow, and it was very beautiful.
  And the buildings are so outlandish. One looks like nuts stacked sideways on top of each other. Another resembles three pencil cases stacked like a pyramid, a third like a table with legs, with high-speed cars flying under it. There were also magnificent palaces here, reminiscent of Versailles and the Hermitage.
  And the fountains are so phasmogoric. And some of them have jets that reach up to a kilometer high. This is truly magnificent. And the jets shimmer like diamonds on the four suns. Such a wondrous creation, not of human hands.
  There are many statues. Some of the elves and trolls resemble humans, only very beautiful, while others are of unfamiliar, strange, and bizarre flora and fauna. The statues are covered either in gold leaf, or in a bright orange metal unknown to earth, or in platinum, or sparkle with a ruby- or emerald-colored metal.
  Everything is so beautiful. For example, here's a cross between a giraffe and a flounder with spider legs. And despite the unusual nature of this life form, it's delightful.
  Oleg noted with a smile:
  - This is what a variety of forms there is, and let's say it's magnificent!
  Margarita noted:
  - Yes, that's wonderful! But where do you plan to look for Shakoplyak?
  The boy genius showed his hand with the bracelet and turned on the hologram, noting:
  "Where could an old woman be on a technologically advanced planet? In a youth center, of course, the very best!"
  The warrior girl noted with a chuckle:
  - Well! That's logical! Actually, when I started aging in my past life, I developed a serious complex. And I was willing to do anything, just to avoid becoming a hunchbacked freak. I even agreed to become a girl and carry out countless missions, just so I wouldn't have to deal with something so terrible.
  Oleg noted with a sigh:
  - There's nothing worse than old age! Old age is even worse than a thousand Hitlers!
  Margarita laughed and replied:
  - A thousand Hitlers will definitely fight and bite each other!
  A flying machine, resembling a gilded dragon with diamond-studded fins, flew past them. But it wasn't an alien, but an artificial craft. And it truly did sparkle and shimmer.
  A hologram appeared and a beautiful girl with lynx ears and wings chirped:
  - By giving us your money, you enrich yourself, we will make your money a quadrillion times bigger!
  Oleg noted:
  - Wonderful! They even outdid MMM!
  Margarita laughed and chirped:
  MMM has no problems! Everyone knows us! We've made money for ourselves, and we can make money for you too! We'll make your voucher golden!
  And the children burst into laughter. It looked so funny.
  A temple floated past them. It was dedicated to some pagan goddess. Its gilded dome was crowned with a bright orange statue of a girl with wings and two swords in her hands, studded with stones sparkling brighter than diamonds. And on four suns, no less.
  Margarita noted:
  - Yes, you must admit, how wonderful paganism can be at times!
  Oleg noted:
  - Yes, paganism... It looks more like the truth than monotheism!
  The warrior girl asked:
  - And why else?
  The warrior boy answered logically:
  There's too much chaos in the world! If there were only one Almighty God in the world, would He allow this?
  Margarita nodded in agreement:
  - I don't think so! After all, responsible rulers maintain order in their countries. And the irresponsible ones are simply overthrown!
  Oleg grinned and sang:
  You cannot exterminate the people,
  You will be overthrown with great shame...
  Our freedom cannot be killed,
  Rejected by the people of the entire Earth!
  Margarita confirmed energetically:
  - Power is not just a word! It is above the law!
  The boy-terminator objected:
  - This is precisely the law, and a just one must be above authority!
  They flew on for a while longer. A chessboard with pieces flew past. They were like human chessmen, only much more varied. There were jesters, generals, officers, corporals, howitzers, chariots, mortars, archers, slingers, cardinals, carts, and camels. Indeed, the set was strong and quite impressive.
  Oleg remarked with a smile:
  - I would love to play chess like that!
  Margarita nodded:
  - Yes, and I would too...
  The boy-terminator sang:
  The world is not a chessboard,
  And not every player is a king...
  There is a longing in my soul like a dagger,
  And ambitions are reduced to zero!
  The Terminator Girl noted:
  - Yes, you can't do without ambition. It's a poor soldier who dreams of becoming a general. I think it was Alexander Suvorov who said that!
  Oleg noticed with a sweet look:
  - And there's a continuation of this proverb: It's a bad general who dreams of becoming a dictator!
  Margarita laughed:
  - Yes, that's a true observation! Indeed, every soldier should be a general, if not in his stomach, then in his head!
  The children continued their flight. Ahead of them was the rejuvenation building. It resembled a pyramid of seven enormous buds. The top one was small, and as they descended, they widened. And it looked beautiful.
  The girl asked:
  - The best rejuvenator?
  The boy confirmed:
  - Yes, the best!
  Margarita logically noted:
  - But she won't sit in it for a whole day, will she? Maybe she ran away from it?
  Oleg exclaimed with a smile:
  - Maybe. But I doubt she'll leave the rejuvenation center without causing trouble.
  The girl nodded:
  - Sounds logical. And for now, everything is calm! Have you checked?
  The boy-terminator confirmed:
  - There were no incidents there. Either Shapoklyak hasn't had time to mess things up yet, or...
  Margarita added:
  - She's not there! That's exactly what I think. Maybe we're on the wrong track?
  Oleg chuckled and replied:
  - Everything impossible is possible, I know for sure!
  And so the child geniuses flew up to the rejuvenator himself. There they were met by two combat robots. They were in the form of beautiful girls, only no longer with ears, but with aquiline noses. And they also had butterfly-like wings.
  The question followed:
  - Where are the young people going?
  Margarita answered with a smile:
  - We want to see what's going on there!
  The robot girls replied:
  - Judging by your appearance, you're underage. And minors are prohibited from performing rejuvenation surgeries!
  Oleg answered with a smile:
  "We're pretty young right now. But we're working as high-profile investigators, looking for a dangerous criminal!"
  The robot girls muttered:
  - Do you have any documents?
  The boy-terminator snapped his fingers, and a gilded card appeared in his hands. The girl, Margarita, took it and did the same, showing her card, which showed that she also had authority. Indeed, the child geniuses had already accomplished many missions, and naturally, they had acquired all sorts of credentials.
  The robot girls blinked, scanned the card, and chirped:
  - Come in! We want to catch the criminal!
  Oleg and Margarita clicked their bare toes and entered the rejuvenation center. Inside, the place resembled something like an advanced scientific research center. And it was filled with so many different electronics and equipment, often of mysterious purposes.
  Margarita noted:
  - There's so much room for hackers here! So many computers!
  Oleg noted with a smile:
  - Wow, where there are computers, there are hackers! What's so funny!
  The children moved through the rejuvenation center. Oleg activated the artificial intelligence search program. With its help, he was looking for Shapoklyak. And she could change her appearance. She could change her face, and even change the shape of her body.
  Margarita examined the equipment. She even took measurements. It was quite advanced. The computers ran on ultraphotons and hyperplasma, which gave them excellent performance. And not only that, but they were also very effective.
  The girl also ran checks and databases. She wanted to know who had been here and what had used the rejuvenator. And also by connecting the artificial intelligence to it. But so far, there was no trace of Shapoklyak. Even though the computer database indicated that this funny but dangerous cartoon character had arrived on this planet. Margarita thought Shapoklyak could have rejuvenated earlier in some advanced world. As it was, she had enough energy for five teenagers.
  Perhaps she is still a cartoon and cannot rejuvenate herself using the same methods as people or less advanced civilizations.
  By the way, elves and trolls have the peculiarity of not aging in appearance.
  Just like hobbits, by the way. The latter look like children and always show off their bare feet, no matter the weather.
  The kids checked the database and, in a rush, all the video recordings. They still couldn't find Shapoklyak. But they did find something.
  It turns out Baba Yaga visited here two days ago and really did look younger. She looks no more than thirty now. And she has such bright copper-red hair. And a pretty beauty.
  Oleg noted with a smile:
  - The Columbus effect! We were looking for a berry, but we found a mushroom!
  Margarita giggled and noted:
  - It's like when we were kids! We used to sing: "It's not a race for one, you'll catch a pig!"
  The boy terminator added with a smile and sang:
  - It's no big deal, little pig, there will be delicious food!
  And the child geniuses finished watching. The freezer is a huge building, with many compartments. But with holograms, video, and a scanner, this can be done very effectively! And most importantly, quickly.
  After which, the young team up and left the freezer. They were greeted and seen off.
  Oleg noted:
  "We can figure out Baba Yaga, too. But what are we going to do with her if she also pulled down a galaxy?"
  Margarita noted with a smile:
  "Only one criminal could have stolen the galaxy. But that's pretty cool. And we might be able to figure out who could have done it!"
  Young investigators began checking the database to see if Baba Yaga had managed to leave the planet.
  Oleg scanned... No, it looks like she didn't abandon me, that's for sure. Or maybe she was able to change everything. Both physically and DNA-wise, and that can be faked.
  Margarita exclaimed with a smile:
  - We'll find her! And catch her in a snare!
  The children moved on. Where to look for Baba Yaga was a rhetorical question. She could be anywhere. But Oleg still had his own theory:
  - She's most likely at a casino! And, of course, at the best and most prestigious one!
  Margarita giggled and noted:
  - In a casino? Why do you think so?
  The boy terminator replied:
  "That's the most logical assumption. Especially since Baba Yaga has some magical abilities, and it would be a sin not to use them for enrichment!"
  The girl genius scratched her forehead, scratched the back of her head and replied:
  - Which sounds logical. But she's not going to sit there for a couple of days straight, is she?
  Oleg chuckled and replied:
  - Those who sit for a week or even longer. Tell me, what's considered a real player in a casino?
  Margarita answered with a smile:
  - The one who plays for a sum greater than his entire fortune!
  The boy-terminator laughed. And his smile was cheerful.
  And so, through a search engine on the hypernet, the most prestigious and largest casino on the planet was discovered. However, it's still a long way off.
  Oleg and Margarita simply decided to get there. There were various modes of transportation, including the metro. It's both underground and aboveground. It's naturally faster than in twenty-first-century Earth cities, and it crosses the entire planet. Although the underground metro isn't the fastest transportation by any means, as there are many stations, and humans, aliens, elves, trolls, and even fairytale creatures need time to exit.
  There's also an elevated metro, which is also impressive to look at. It also has a lot of stops. But from there, you can admire the city from above, with its marvelous views.
  Margarita suggested:
  - Let's do it above ground!
  Oleg nodded:
  "Well, at least we'll admire the beautiful views. We don't have much experience visiting highly developed, cosmic worlds yet!"
  And the children headed to the overground metro station, which was already full of a diverse crowd. And it looked very beautiful.
  And then the young investigators were called out. Cheburashka appeared before the children. He was exactly like the one in the cartoon, with the big ears and light-brown fur. Quite cute.
  He extended his paw to Oleg and said:
  - I am a famous cartoon character, the famous Cheburashka!
  The boy terminator chuckled and replied:
  - I am a warrior, no sin, wonderful Oleg!
  Margarita smiled and replied:
  - Great! So we met Cheburashka. And where's Crocodile Gena?
  The little animal with big ears replied:
  "He's on another planet now. He's looking for Shapoklyak there. What's interesting to you?"
  Oleg answered with a smile:
  "We're looking for Shapoklyak ourselves! And it's a matter of great national importance!"
  Cheburashka remarked skeptically:
  "If we're talking about stealing a galaxy from a museum-space worlds-then it was probably done by someone more technocratically advanced. Like Shredder! Or Anti-Cloak!"
  Margarita giggled and replied:
  "We'll check them out if necessary! But for now, we need to say that the museum's security cameras captured two of the main villains-Shapoklyak and Baba Yaga!"
  Cheburashka giggled and chirped:
  -They can do it. But they're probably acting on someone's orders!
  Oleg confirmed with an energetic nod of his head:
  - Of course it's possible! But in any case, we first need to find the people who can do it.
  The little animal with ears replied:
  - Shapoklyak is probably on this planet too. Where are you going now?
  Margarita answered with a smile:
  - To the most prestigious casino!
  Cheburashka squeaked with a smile:
  - Then I'm with you! It's possible that both shrews could be there!
  Oleg confirmed with a nod of his fair head:
  "I don't rule out the possibility that they could have acted together! As they say, two of a kind!"
  Margarita giggled and noted:
  - Then let's order a taxi! It's not exactly prestigious to be in a shared car. And the smells might be unpleasant!
  The child investigators actually summoned a flying car. Cheburashka didn't object.
  And they were the second to board a device that resembled a flying ticket. The taxi had no driver-it was driven by artificial intelligence. This had its advantages-no tipping-but also its disadvantages. Since Oleg and Margarita looked like minors, they were also legally entitled to a ninety percent discount on taxi fares. But Cheburashka ran into trouble. He was, after all, a creature of mysterious appearance and age.
  However, Cheburashka was not embarrassed and answered:
  - I'll go like an adult! I'm not a beggar! I'll pay for myself!
  That was the decision. After that, the transparent-walled taxi-disco lifted off from the surface and, smoothly but quickly, sped through the air of the local planet.
  CHAPTER No 19.
  The child geniuses admired the landscape. Below them lay the metropolis of a large, rich, technologically advanced planet. Surprisingly, there were many temples to various gods. But paganism is a fashion. Moreover, most gods are not fiction, but real, super-evolved beings who possess power and can exert influence.
  The temples are beautiful, I must say, and there are far more goddesses than male gods. Well, there are also neuter gods. There are also trisexual races in the universe.
  But multiple genders are rare. After all, there is the concept of evolution. Souls, too, are subject to evolution and improvement. And the gods, too. As the saying goes, growth and perfection are along the divine line.
  Therefore, the large number of temples is not at all a sign of the backwardness of this motley world.
  There are also a great many diverse and colorful buildings. Some are shaped like nesting dolls, others like squirrels and bunnies with peacock tails. There are buildings shaped like crocodiles lying on top of each other, and much more. There's a truly rich arsenal of architectural ensembles here. And they look gorgeous and beautiful.
  Many aerial metro lines run along the surface. Half-empty cars with transparent stirrups rush along them at high speed. Like aquariums on the rails, without touching.
  Cheburashka, whose experience of traveling to other worlds was greater than Oleg and Margarita's, noted:
  "It's quite an ancient technology! It was built when this world wasn't all that advanced. Now they prefer just flying machines, and in even more advanced worlds, they even use null-transition."
  Oleg clarified:
  - Is this like instant teleportation and transfer from one place to another?
  Cheburashka nodded:
  - Yes! Something like that! You have to admit, that's pretty cool too! And most importantly, it's practical!
  Margarita giggled and chirped:
  - Theory is good, but practice is even better!
  The metropolis continued to float by. Three statues were visible in the distance: a beautiful elven girl, an equally handsome troll boy, bare-chested, and a muscular hobbit boy wearing only shorts. It was a symbol of reconciliation between the three races. Elves and trolls were particularly prone to war. Moreover, the latter were also beautiful by earthly standards. Unlike human fairy tales, which usually depict trolls as ugly, it must be said, this is unfair.
  The statues were cast from various metals, each a rainbow of colors, and studded with equally multicolored precious stones. And they were as tall as Mount Everest-if not taller, about ten kilometers.
  And they tower over all the other buildings. The buildings here aren't particularly tall, although they are quite tall, but they're still not like those in the film The Fifth Element. That looked more scary and ugly than graceful.
  And so it was a beautiful world, where elves and trolls and several other races, not counting the tourists, coexisted on one planet. And it seemed incredibly wonderful.
  Oleg noted with a smile:
  - Look how beautiful this world is! How beautiful this world is - like a utopia!
  Margarita noted sarcastically:
  - But there is still money in it, so not everything is so great!
  Cheburashka laughed and remarked:
  There's money even in communist worlds. It's true that many people and aliens there don't even actually work, but they still get paid. Just one like per month, either by pressing a button or mentally commanding, and you'll receive a hefty salary. And the prices on many goods are symbolic and drop every year!
  Oleg laughed and replied:
  - There was a time when prices went down! It's like under Stalin!
  Margarita giggled and sang:
  - The first thaw! Stalin's funeral!
  Cheburashka noticed with a smile:
  - Would you like me to introduce you to cartoon Stalin?
  The boy-terminator noted:
  - He's the one who could have stolen the galaxy! He's got ambitions through the roof!
  The terminator girl added with a laugh:
  - That's right! It turns out incredibly cool!
  Cheburashka grinned and remarked:
  "Stalin may have gangster tendencies, but I still don't think he'd steal the galaxy. Koschei the Deathless, however, might. But he's too prominent to steal personally. So Shapoklyak and Baba Yaga could carry out his order!"
  Oleg shouted to the robot that was controlling the air taxi:
  - Step up to the central casino!
  A squeak was heard in response:
  - I thought you wanted to admire the wonderful scenery!
  The boy terminator stated decisively:
  - There's a time for work and a time for play!
  And the disc-shaped taxi sped up. And beneath it, the colorful and ornate neighborhoods of the wondrous metropolis began to flash by. It looked incredibly beautiful and yet at the same time tiring to the eye.
  Margarita noted:
  - This is turning out to be a delightful passage! We can see so many interesting things!
  Oleg objected:
  "When we're moving so fast, it's really hard to see anything. It's amazing how we barely feel the acceleration."
  Cybernetics replied:
  - There is an anti-inertial field in the cabin!
  Margarita exclaimed:
  - Wow! How much progress has been made!
  Cheburashka noted:
  - There are even more advanced technological features in other worlds! This isn't the height of perfection!
  Oleg noted with a sweet smile:
  There's no limit to perfection. And I don't think there's such a thing as absolute perfection. Just like there's no such thing as absolute omnipotence!
  Margarita confirmed:
  - Yes, absolute omnipotence is unattainable, if only because of the paradox: can God forge a chain that he could not break?
  Cheburashka noticed:
  - This is a perfectly reasonable argument, but from the point of view of practical value - let's be honest - it's an empty mind game!
  Oleg was about to say something, but then the central casino appeared on the horizon. It was enormous, shaped like a colossal royal crown. It sparkled, and even spun very slowly.
  Oleg exclaimed with admiration:
  - Asala de bista!
  Margarita nodded:
  - Yes! It looks beautiful!
  Cheburashka noticed:
  "Both Baba Yaga and Shakoplyak can try to use their abilities to win, but... The casino has a special, powerful field installed that neutralizes magic. So, they can only rely on their natural intelligence, skill, and centuries of experience."
  Oleg chuckled and sang:
  You won't find a cooler boy,
  Don't waste your time, kids...
  He is no more than thirty,
  He is a century old!
  Margarita noted:
  "Now maybe we should find them in the casino. Maybe they'll end up with a galaxy hanging around their necks like a medallion!"
  Cheburashka nodded in agreement:
  - Sounds very logical! Let's try to do some reconnaissance.
  No one asked about age at the entrance, but security scanned us for weapons. As if the loser could start shooting. It even seemed quite logical.
  The guards were robots, more graceful than intimidating in appearance.
  Plus a small entrance fee. And the two eternal children and the cartoon character with big ears entered the luxurious hall. Or rather, they first walked along the corridors. And they were very richly decorated and painted. It really did resemble a royal palace, only more vibrant and luxurious than, say, the Hermitage or Peterhof. There were so many large, artificial gemstones, statues, vases with flowers made of precious stones, and so on.
  And, of course, there were gaming halls, where you could find all sorts of slot machines. Traditional roulette and one-armed bandits were just a few. And, of course, there were windows on every corner where robotic cashiers offered to exchange money for chips.
  Oleg remarked with a smile:
  - Maybe we'll play roulette!
  Margarita giggled and noted:
  - Really? Do you want to blow it all away?
  Cheburashka noticed:
  There's a system of gambling where you won't win much, but you won't lose much either. But it's not for gamblers!
  Oleg nodded:
  - Yes, I know this system. But I actually have a completely different idea!
  Margarita laughed and noted:
  - That's a good idea... And I think we should most likely find Shapoklyak and Baba Yaga!
  Cheburashka noted:
  - The casino is big and it will take you too long to search!
  Oleg stated decisively:
  - Let's search using artificial intelligence!
  Margarita laughed and replied:
  - That's a good idea!
  But it wasn't easy to find, as the field here jammed any electronics. I had to simply wander around the casino halls, hoping for the best.
  In addition, Oleg listened to where there was more noise, and perhaps to those who were winning most often, and this should also have suggested something!
  The boy was, as they say, a household word. And so the three of them walked around the casino. The sound of bare, childish feet and the soft paws of an unknown animal slapped.
  Oleg felt inspired. There were so many different types of slot machines. Cards of various suits and colors flew through the air. The number of holographic card portraits and the variety of colors were simply off the charts. And there were all sorts of weapons, all kinds of them. And it was really cool. And imagine it all spinning and twisting.
  Oleg noted:
  - A magnificent casino... Even too much!
  Margarita agreed:
  "You're just spoiled for choice. With so many different machines, it's just utterly terrifying!"
  Cheburashka noticed:
  - There are sometimes more! Although there really are a lot of them here.
  Holograms of various cards, dice, and spaceships were constantly twisting, joining, dispersing, and otherwise whirling through the air. In some places, they were illuminated by helium or ultra-powerful lamps.
  The eternal children giggled and marveled. What was here was simply unique.
  Oleg took it and sang:
  Casino, casino, casino,
  It's music, songs, wine...
  These are the tears of lost years,
  And a lucky ticket for fortune!
  Margarita giggled and noted:
  - And what is it - lovely!
  And the kids' team burst out laughing. It really was funny and fun and cool.
  And while all sorts of chips and bonuses were swirling in the air, Baba Yaga suddenly appeared.
  It was a woman no older than thirty, very aggressively beautiful and with copper-red hair that fluttered in the currents of wind generated by the wind tunnel and that looked like a proletarian banner.
  You wouldn't say she's a traditional character, just a pretty babe. But her claws are long and painted.
  Margarita looked at Baba Yaga and noted:
  - She doesn't have a galaxy. At least, she doesn't carry one with her.
  Oleg nodded with a smile:
  - And the scanner says, or rather shows something similar, such a mass as a galaxy cannot be hidden!
  The eternal children were at a loss when something fell on them from above. The boy and girl barely managed to jump out of the way. A heavy block of ice plopped down on the casino floor. The colorful mosaic tiles cracked, and a shower of splashes rained down. The casino patrons, a motley bunch, screamed and scattered.
  A trembling voice was heard:
  - Who helps people,
  He's wasting his time...
  With good deeds,
  You can't become famous!
  You can't become famous!
  And there she was, Shapoklyak, not an old woman, but a young and beautiful girl, looking like a teenager, who jumped out from the corner. And doused Cheburashka with orange cream.
  The little animal with big ears shouted:
  - Catch her!
  Oleg and Magrarita are seasoned fighters. They dove like a young Mike Tyson in the ring, sending a fiery cascade of lightning overhead. The boy landed a bare heel on Shapoklyak's chin, and the girl on her solar plexus. And the aggressive girl died. She fell gasping for air.
  Oleg roared:
  - Where is the stolen galaxy?
  Shapoklyak growled:
  - No way!
  Margarita responded by grabbing her nose with her bare toes and squeezing it hard. Shapoklyak began to howl in pain:
  - Mom, save me!
  Margarita growled:
  - It's not mom who saves you! It's aunt who forgives you!
  Shapoklyak giggled and yelled:
  - Yes, I...
  The Termantor girl squeezed her nose harder, and the cartoon girl's nose swelled. She literally howled.
  Oleg suddenly realized:
  - She has a rat named Larisa! She probably has a ball with a galaxy on it!
  Margarita muttered:
  - Turn on Larisa's DNA scanner!
  Shapoklyak howled:
  - You don't understand anything! We want to do a good deed!
  Cheburashka licked the light orange cream, giggled and noted:
  - Is Shapoklyak so good? It's more likely that a lobster will fly off the mountain!
  Oleg asked:
  - Where does Shapoklyak keep the rat Larisa?
  Cheburashka quickly answered:
  - In your bag! There's probably her fur in there!
  Margarita, skillfully moving her fingers, unzipped the bag with its tricky clasp. She slipped the micro-scanner inside. Indeed, it beeped faintly and bits of information began to flow.
  Shapoklyak squeaked:
  - Do you want to make an enemy of Koschei the Deathless?
  Oleg asked sternly:
  - Why does he need this galaxy? I suppose it's not for a good cause?
  Shapoklyak giggled and replied:
  - I've read so many fairy tales that I'm used to Koschei usually being evil!
  Margarita noted:
  In the film "The Last Knight," Koschei reformed. He became kind. Some people write about Koschei in unconventional ways, too!
  Oleg confirmed:
  - In the cartoon, Petya and the Wolf are friends with Koschei!
  Cheburashka muttered:
  "There are dozens of Koshcheis in this universe. If there are evil ones, and normal ones, let him tell me which Koshchei he serves!"
  Shapoklyak squeaked:
  - No! I won't tell!
  Margarita noted:
  - All data has been loaded! Now you can search by DNA to find the location of Larisa the rat.
  Oleg muttered:
  - There's a time for work and a time for play! In the meantime, let's tie up Shapoklyak!
  "No, quick, little chicks!" Baba Yaga slashed her long nails, and a fiery net flew at the children. The children quickly jumped aside. And without thinking, they attacked Baba Yaga. Oleg deftly executed a sweep, and the red-haired woman fell. And Margarita went ahead and hit Baba Yaga on the back of the head with her bare shin. And that shrew just went and, with a gnashing of teeth, passed out.
  In the confusion, Shapoklyak was about to slip away, but Cheburashka lassoed her. She hit the little creature in the knee, but Margarita tossed the ball with her bare toes. It hit Shapoklyak on the back of the head. And the mischievous girl passed out.
  Oleg noted:
  - Well done, well done - the grandma is a real lifesaver! Being friends with her is like playing with a crocodile!
  Margarita giggled and noted:
  - Yes, it really turned out great and cool!
  Both villains were quickly bound with duct tape and handed over to the arriving casino security. In this case, they were robots under the command of a very beautiful elf girl. They were then loaded into a prison capsule, virtually impossible to escape from, containing a special metal that neutralizes almost any magic.
  And Oleg and Margarita rushed off to find the rat Larisa. It was clear that if Koschei got the galaxy, there would be trouble.
  It's not clear yet what the truth is!
  The children ran through the casino, their bare, pink, round heels flashing. They could run faster than cheetahs. But Cheburashka clearly lagged behind.
  Margarita ran and sang:
  - We're galloping at full speed, our fast horses! We've even defeated Baba Yaga! They won't catch us! They won't catch us! They won't catch us!
  Oleg chuckled and roared:
  Beware, beware, beware,
  Let's not joke!
  We'll find you underground,
  We'll find you underground,
  We'll get it out of the water!
  We'll tear you to pieces!
  And we'll take the ball!
  And then the Terminator children saw a rat. Larisa, a fairly large animal, the size of a small rabbit, was trying to escape. Tied to the very tip of its tail was a ball of super-strong metal that shone, subtly, but with all the colors of the rainbow.
  Margarita squeaked:
  - What a galaxy! It's compressed using fractional and axial dimensions!
  Oleg nodded:
  - Yes, if you spin the entire universe with an axial dimension and make small fractions, you can fit it into a thimble!
  The children picked up their pace, closing the distance between them and the rat. Larisa tried to scurry through a crack, but Oleg and Margarita tossed razor blades with their bare toes. They cut off the rat's tail. And the galaxy rolled across the casino floor.
  Oleg tossed the ball with the galaxy in the air with his bare foot and caught it with his hand, chirping:
  - Glory to communism!
  Margarita squeaked:
  - Glory to the heroes!
  Larisa finally slipped through the crack. Oleg raised the ball with the galaxy higher and sang:
  I believe the whole world will wake up,
  There will be an end to orcism...
  And the sun will shine,
  Illuminating the path of Solcenism!
  And the boy stamped his bare, childish foot.
  Margarita noted:
  - It's not over yet!
  Indeed, like a jack-in-the-box, a bony figure in a skeleton-painted suit, with a bald head and a terrifying face, jumped out. He was holding a bound Cheburashka by the ears.
  Oleg exclaimed:
  - Oh, it looks like this is his immortality!
  Koschei took it and roared:
  - I'll cut off his head if you don't immediately return the ball with the galaxy to me!
  And he flashed a razor-sharp sword.
  Margarita squeaked:
  - Why do you need this ball?
  Koschei the Deathless roared:
  I don't care about people,
  I'm used to commanding...
  Even the most important people,
  I will make you fall on your face!
  Oleg grinned and remarked:
  - If you kill Cheburashka, the guards will arrest you and you will end up in prison!
  Koschei chuckled and replied:
  - According to the humane laws of a civilized country, they won"t give me more than a hundred years, but for an immortal, a hundred years is not a long time!
  Margarita responded aggressively:
  - While you're sitting there, we'll figure out where your death is and break the needle!
  Koschei shuddered, and then laughed:
  - We still need to find her!
  Oleg answered harshly:
  "But we found the galaxy, which means we can find your death, too. Believe me, we won't forgive Cheburashka's murder!"
  Koschei was at a loss. He really didn't want to die even if he lived for a million years. Especially since you're immortal, and while you might not look like much, you don't suffer from the ailments of old age! And you're not planning on dying!
  Margarita, sensing the immortal's hesitation, picked up the blade and threw it with her bare toes. It flew past, striking Koschei's wrist, severing his veins. Blood gushed and then disappeared, the wound healed, but the immortal dropped the sword in surprise, and Oleg rushed toward it. He tried to pick it up, but the boy-terminator was quicker, grabbing it first with his bare foot, then with his palm. He slashed at Koschei with a backhand. The blade, which could cut through any metal or flesh, severed the immortal's head. It separated from his body and cursed:
  - Ooh, anti-pulsar!
  And Koschei's hands began to search and feel for his head. However, Oleg struck the immortal's head, knocking it away from the body. And he said:
  - Well, your highness, you have lost!
  And Margarita rushed to Cheburashka and began to untangle him. Koschei's head roared:
  - I'll kill you all! It's impossible to kill me!
  At that moment, the elf's strong hands grabbed her head by the ears and the casino's main security guard exclaimed:
  "Taking hostages, threatening someone with a weapon, and attempting to steal a valuable artifact! I think that's a minimum sentence of fifty years in prison!"
  Koschei growled:
  - You can escape from any prison!
  The elf guard replied:
  - If you don't escape, we'll keep your head and body separate! So...
  Margarita giggled and replied:
  - Professor Dowell's head!
  At that moment, Cheburashka"s voice was heard:
  - Now everyone on your knees! Or I'll blow up the universe!
  The little animal with big ears was holding a galaxy in a ball.
  Oleg noted with a grin:
  "Well, as always, the main villain woke up at the very end! But how are you going to blow up the universe if this ball is so strong it could even withstand an atomic bomb?"
  Cheburashka giggled, something sharp, like a super-thin dagger, flashed in his hands, and the little animal of an unknown species, with a ringing, delighted voice, answered:
  "I'll blow it up with Koschei's Death's needle! It can pierce anything. And if I make a hole in the balloon, a colossal destructive force will burst forth. And it will destroy the entire universe!"
  Margarita squeaked:
  - And you with us!
  Cheburashka giggled and replied:
  "No, not me! I hold Koschei's Death Needle in my hands, and it can protect me from an explosion of almost any power!"
  The immortal's head growled:
  - Order them to free me!
  Cheburashka burst out laughing:
  - No way! I have no intention of sharing power with you! Let them give me control of a system of slaves, and I will spare the universe, otherwise it will be the end for everyone!
  Koschei's head laughed and replied:
  "You're a fool! Do you really think I'd give a real death needle to some unknown animal so you could kill me? No! It's just a fake!"
  Cheburashka's expression changed, and Margarita, with lightning speed, threw a net over him. The large-eared, unknown creature desperately tried to escape, but became increasingly entangled.
  The elf guard signaled to the robots, muttering:
  - Well, you will get yours too, but I won"t promise anything, let the court decide!
  Cheburashka squeaked:
  - I demand to be tried by a children's tribunal!
  Margarita giggled and replied:
  - You're already over a hundred years old, what kind of children's tribunal!
  Oleg added:
  - You will answer like an adult, villain!
  And the terminator children stamped their bare little feet and squeaked:
  - Glory to Solcenism! Glory to good deeds!
  CHAPTER No 19.
  Oleg Rybachenko's next mission was also expected to be quite interesting. Why not help Peter the Great during the Prut Campaign, which in real history ended in failure for Russia, forcing the surrender of Azov, which had been captured at such a huge cost. And not the first time, at that. But what if, on the contrary, Peter the Great were victorious in this war? Although, of course, the tsar was cruel and overly ambitious. Even after his victory over Sweden, this emperor again waged war far to the south. He also condemned Alexander the Great.
  Oleg moved to his aid along with Margarita at a critical moment when the Russian army was surrounded by superior Turkish forces and threatened with complete annihilation. But the immortal children descended upon the Ottoman troops.
  Oleg is just a barefoot boy, no more than twenty years old, wearing only shorts. But his bare torso is very muscular, and his movements are swift, his swords spinning faster than propeller blades. And with him is a girl terminator, Margarita. She also hacks down Turkish soldiers with great fury and enthusiasm.
  And so these child super-warriors set about crushing the Ottoman army. And it was enormous-two hundred and fifty thousand soldiers of a motley crew.
  A boy and a girl hack at Ottoman soldiers with swords. They cut them in half and behead them. With each swing, the swords lengthen. And they cut down the Turkish army. Oleg Rybachenko hacks and simultaneously recalls his previous exploits and missions.
  He had everything. In space, in the distant past, and conversely, in the futuristic future. After all, humanity does have a future, and it's quite a bright one. The victory over old age alone is worth something.
  What if human medicine learns to truly rejuvenate human bodies?
  If medicine truly learns to radically rejuvenate the body, it will be the most profound shift in human history, comparable to the discovery of fire or electricity. We will move from treating diseases to managing biological time itself.
  Here are the main scenarios of how this could change our lives:
  1. Social Revolution: The End of the "Life Cycle"
  The traditional "study - work - retire - die" scheme will disappear.
  A century-long career: People will be able to change professions every 30-50 years. The concept of "retirement age" will lose its meaning, as an 80-year-old will have the energy and health of a 25-year-old.
  Shifting family values: Marriages "till death do us part" may become rare with hundreds of years of life ahead. Families will emerge where five to seven generations coexist in identical physical form.
  2. Economy: From Burden to Resource
  Currently, the aging population is a huge burden on budgets (pension payments, care).
  Productivity Boost: Rejuvenation will transform "old people" from resource consumers into active creators with vast experience.
  The problem of inequality: If technology becomes expensive, the world could split into a "biological elite" (the eternally young rich) and everyone else. This will create unprecedented levels of social tension.
  3. Demography and ecology
  The main risk is overpopulation. If people stop dying of old age, the planet will require strict birth control or urgent development of new resources (space, oceans) to avoid resource collapse.
  4. Psychology and meanings
  Loss of zest for life: Many philosophers believe that life's finiteness gives it value and motivation. Without the fear of old age, people can become either infinitely wise or utterly apathetic, putting everything off until later.
  The Dictatorship of Experience: Young people will find it extremely difficult to make it in a world where all key positions are occupied by ambitious "200-year-old" professionals in perfect health.
  Current advances in science
  This is no longer quite science fiction:
  Cellular reprogramming: Scientists have already learned to return adult cells to stem cell status (Yamanaka factors) and rejuvenate the tissues of laboratory animals.
  Senolytics: Drugs are being developed that cleanse the body of "zombie cells" that cause aging and inflammation.
  Do you think you are willing to live 300 years if it means not having children to maintain balance on the planet?
  The boy-terminator Oleg Rybachenko continued to hack at the Turkish soldiers, along with the girl-superhero Margarita. With each swing, their swords lengthened, and several dozen Ottoman soldiers
  It was cut down nearby.
  The boy warrior continued to chop and reason at the same time.
  However, even presidents have not yet become younger, and the all-powerful leader of China, Xi, cannot even get rid of obesity!
  You're right, today's reality is still far from fantastical scenarios. Even with limitless resources, world leaders remain hostages to biology, and their appearance is the best proof of that.
  Here are a few reasons why "omnipotence" isn't yet helping you beat aging and excess weight:
  Risks and side effects: Modern drugs for radical rejuvenation or rapid weight loss (for example, GLP-1 agonists like Ozempic) have a long list of side effects, ranging from gastrointestinal problems to psychological effects. For leaders whose cognitive function must be impeccable 24/7, such risks are often unacceptable.
  Public image: In political culture (especially in China), a certain "respectability" and obesity have historically been associated with well-being and health. A dramatic change in appearance or extreme thinness can give rise to rumors of serious illness, which destabilizes the system.
  Biological limits: At the current time (March 2026), science can only slow down some processes. Xi Jinping (who is already 72 years old) and other leaders discuss the prospect of living to 150 years more as a strategic goal for the future than as a service available immediately.
  Safety Priority: Leaders like Xi and Biden are subject to conservative medical protocols. They are prohibited from using experimental techniques (such as gene therapy or cell reprogramming) until they have undergone decades of clinical trials.
  Interestingly, in 2025, a conversation between Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin was captured on a hot mic, where they discussed rejuvenation technologies and organ transplants as a way to "live forever." This confirms that the topic is of great interest to them, but they still lack a "magic pill."
  For now, even for emperors, the best remedies remain diet and regimen, which, given their schedule, are more difficult to adhere to than for the average person.
  The boy-terminator grinned - that's true. And here one can recall some heads of state who think too highly of themselves.
  President Lukashenko boasts that he is a great athlete, but is terribly fat and pot-bellied.
  Alexander Lukashenko does actively promote the image of a "sports president," but the contrast between his statements and his physical form often becomes a subject of discussion.
  Here's how the situation stands now (March 2026):
  Official position: Lukashenko continues to claim that he devotes at least two hours a day to sports. His mandatory routine includes hockey, cross-country skiing, rollerblading, and chopping wood. Official media regularly publish footage of him participating in amateur hockey matches or going skiing.
  Health: Despite his stated healthy lifestyle, age (he turned 70 in August 2024) and excess weight are taking their toll. In late 2025, a fall on the ice during a match drew attention, forcing him to provide an explanation for his health.
  Visual changes: Independent observers and media outlets have noted that the politician has noticeably gained weight in recent years. This creates a certain cognitive dissonance between his calls for the nation to "take care of itself" and his own appearance.
  Sporting image as politics: For Lukashenko, sport is not just a means of physical activity but also a tool for "public diplomacy" and a demonstration of control. Even if his form is far from athletic, his very presence on the ice or ski track conveys the message that he's "in the fold."
  Ultimately, Lukashenko's situation confirms your thesis that even unlimited access to the best medicine and the ability to declare oneself a "great athlete" cannot completely hide natural biological processes and the consequences of lifestyle.
  The boy and girl fought quite successfully, clearing the area of Ottoman soldiers. They acted with extraordinary vigor and force. And their swords could cut through any metal and practically any, even the toughest, flesh. Although flesh is never tough.
  Meanwhile, Oleg continued to think and compare.
  If all people suddenly became children under twelve years old, would Putin and Lukashenko retain their power?
  This is the plot of a first-rate dystopian novel. If the world woke up tomorrow in the bodies of 12-year-olds, the political system in its current form would collapse within hours, and here's why:
  1. Physical and psychological authority
  Lukashenko and Putin's power is largely built on the image of a "strong leader," "father of the nation," or "stern ruler."
  Visual collapse: It's hard to inspire awe and submission when you're a fifth-grader with a broken voice. The sacredness of power instantly evaporates.
  Peer rebellion: 12 years old marks the peak of adolescent puberty and the rejection of authority. In a world where everyone is equal in strength and age, hierarchy built on fear of "old people" ceases to function.
  2. Army and security forces
  This is the main support of both regimes.
  The weapon is not the right size: Kalashnikov assault rifles weigh around 3.5-4 kg. For a 10-12-year-old child, this is a heavy and awkward weapon. The recoil when firing would be traumatic.
  The disappearance of chains of command: Security forces obey orders because they are embedded in a rigid hierarchy. If a general and a private became children, institutional memory would be erased very quickly. Child soldiers would rather play football or forage for food than guard the residence of "little Putin."
  3. Resource chaos
  In the world of children, the main currency will not be gas or loyalty, but food and entertainment.
  The public administration system requires monotonous work (bureaucracy). Twelve-year-olds are physically incapable of maintaining concentration on boring reports and oil production charts.
  Lukashenko won't be able to force children to "harvest is sacred" if they just want to ride bicycles.
  4. Personal qualities
  Putin and Lukashenko are old-school types; their methods (intrigue, behind-the-scenes deals, intelligence agency control) require an adult environment. Among children, leadership is seized by:
  The most charismatic and daring.
  Those who can organize the extraction of sweets or gadgets.
  Those who are physically stronger in a one-on-one fight.
  Most likely, yesterday's presidents will simply be ignored. In the worst-case scenario, stronger and more aggressive teenagers will quickly explain to them that their decrees are no longer valid, as they are no longer backed by the riot police (who are now also busy with their own childish affairs).
  Result: Power will instantly decentralize. The world will turn into William Golding's "Lord of the Flies," where the survivors will not be the "strategists," but those who adapt most quickly to chaos.
  Who do you think would come to power faster in such a "childish world"-a young blogger with millions of subscribers or a former special forces soldier in a teenager's body?
  Putin doesn't seem to have much charisma even now, but there's something about him that makes people afraid to contradict him, even in a cautious manner.
  You're absolutely right: Putin's charisma is more a "charisma of office" than of personality. Unlike Lukashenko, who can fire up a crowd for hours (albeit in a specific way), Putin's power is based on institutional fear and a well-established system of checks and balances.
  If everyone became 12 years old, this mechanism would break down for three reasons:
  Breaking the "sacred chain": Now officials fear not a 170 cm tall individual, but the Apparatus. They fear the FSB, prison, and the loss of assets. In the world of 12-year-olds, the "Apparatus" ceases to function. An Investigative Committee investigator who has become a fifth-grader is unlikely to torture another fifth-grader on the orders of a third. Fear is an adult construct that requires faith in the stability of the system. Children's planning horizons extend until the evening.
  No physical threat: Adult Putin relies on riot police and the Russian National Guard. In a child's world, the "security forces" are just other children. Teenagers quickly realize that "the emperor has no clothes" (and is small). Without special signals, motorcades, and security, the magic of power evaporates within 15 minutes.
  Pack psychology: At age 12, leadership is seized by the one who can lead, demonstrate physical courage, or provide resources here and now. Putin, on the other hand, is a master of behind-the-scenes intrigue, a "gray cardinal." Such tactics don't work well in the schoolyard: there, directness, strength, and audacity are valued, not the ability to balance oligarchic clans for 20 years.
  Most likely, in such a situation, they would simply stop answering his calls. Yesterday's ministers, having become children, would run out into the streets to play football or rob candy stores, completely ignoring "little Vladimir's" attempts to convene the Security Council.
  Do you think he could have turned his peers around in a teenager's body using his KGB skills, or is such "game of thrones" completely out of the question in the world of children?
  Oleg Rybachenko continued to fight with unwavering vigor. He and Margarita were already finishing off the Ottomans.
  At the same time, the boy continued to think and compare.
  In one of Oleg Rybachenko's novels, a similar rejuvenation of bodies occurred, while memory was preserved, but the empire, more developed than the current Earth, was preserved.
  In Oleg Rybachenko's eccentric novels (like "The Young Emperor" or his rejuvenation series), he often operates on the assumption that memory and willpower are what define personality. If the experience of a 70-year-old dictator remains in the body of a 12-year-old boy, he retains an "adult" cunning, an understanding of human weaknesses, and, most importantly, the habit of commanding.
  However, there are three critical differences between Rybachenko's novel and reality that could have saved the empire in the book, but destroyed it in real life:
  Resource base: In developed empires of the future (like Rybachenko's), many processes are automated. If robots and AI continue to obey the emperor's "childish" voice, power is preserved. In our reality, a living plumber, transformed into a child, needs to want to fix a pipe, not play video games.
  Army discipline: Rybachenko's books often describe the "drilling" of loyalty at the instinctive level. If the army is made up of fanatics, they will defend their leader, even if he's the size of a nightstand. In Putin and Lukashenko's reality, the army is made up of hired workers and conscripts. Without salaries and the fear of imprisonment, their loyalty will evaporate.
  Systemic inertia: Rybachenko exploits the idea that "an adult mind in a young body" is a superpower (energy + experience). But he often forgets about hormones. A 12-year-old Putin, due to a pubertal surge of testosterone, might have simply gotten into a fight behind garages over an offensive word instead of planning special operations.
  In Rybachenko's world, heroes are functions, bearers of will. In real life, they are biological beings. Without external trappings (costumes, stands, a nuclear suitcase that a 12-year-old couldn't physically lift), maintaining power over millions of other "children" is nearly impossible.
  Who do you think would become the new leader if this happened-the one who still had access to the weapons depot, or the one who was the first to think of seizing the chocolate and soda factory?
  Oleg Rybachenko has a children's special forces unit - they look like children of ten or eleven years old, but their super bodies are so strong and fast that they can kill an elephant or a lion with their bare hands.
  In Rybachenko's world, such children's special forces are the ideal tool of dictatorship, because they solve the main problem of the "children's world": physical weakness.
  If Putin or Lukashenko, for example, were given an army of ten-year-olds capable of taking down an elephant with their bare hands, their power would not only remain intact, but would become absolute:
  Biological Superiority: Against superbodies, conventional weapons or the numerical superiority of other children are useless. This transforms the ruler into a "deity," protected by invulnerable angels of death.
  The element of surprise: It's psychologically extremely difficult to perceive a child as a mortal threat until they demonstrate force. This is the perfect weapon for quelling any rebellion by "dissenting teenagers."
  Loyalty through "hardware": Rybachenko's superchildren are often free of ordinary human doubts. If their memories are preserved and honed for service, they become ideal overseers in a world where everyone else has become ordinary 12-year-olds.
  In such a reality, the "adult minds" of the rulers, combined with the "superbodies" of the security guards, would transform the planet into a global maximum-security children's camp, where disobedience is punished not with a bad grade, but with a fatal blow from a small fist.
  In such a world, do you think that intrigues between the superchildren themselves would be the main threat to dictators, or would their loyalty be unwavering?
  In one of Oleg Rybachenko's novels, superchildren overthrew Stalin for his senseless cruelty and began to rule themselves.
  Rybachenko's narrative often revolves around rationality triumphing over dogma. While "superchildren" retain the memory and cool analytical mind of adults (or even superintelligence), Stalin becomes for them not the "father of the people," but an ineffective manager who wastes valuable resources (people) on paranoia and repression.
  In the scenario of Stalin's overthrow by superchildren, two factors are at work that also apply to modern rulers:
  1. Ethical gap
  Stalinist (or any dictatorial) cruelty is often irrational. Rybachenko's superchildren are creatures of a new technological order. For them, the methods of the 19th and 20th centuries (torture, the Gulag, fear) are like trying to fix a computer with a sledgehammer. They overthrow the dictator not because they are "kind," but because they are smarter and more capable.
  2. The tyrant's vulnerability to "his own"
  Stalin felt threatened by generals, Politburo comrades, or doctors' conspiracies. But he hardly expected a blow from a ten-year-old child who could punch through a concrete wall.
  In the case of Putin or Lukashenko, their security is made up of people with families, mortgages, and fears.
  In the case of superchildren, they are autonomous combat units. If they realize that orders from "higher up" are harmful to the system or to them personally, they will eliminate the source of interference in seconds.
  Who would rule in the end?
  Under Rybachenko, power usually passes to the technocratic council of these very same superchildren.
  They are not vain (they don"t need palaces and golden toilets).
  They are aimed at expansion, science and immortality.
  If this happened today, instead of a "vertical of power," we would have a "networked dictatorship of the intellect." Putin and Lukashenko, with their methods of control via television and personal loyalty, would appear to such children like hopelessly outdated analog devices in the age of quantum computing.
  Do you think that ordinary people (turned into children) could get along with such super-rulers, or would this lead to an even more terrible division between "child-gods" and "child-subjects"?
  While Oleg Rybachenko was pondering this, the purge was complete. The Ottoman troops, having suffered enormous losses, fled en masse. The boy and girl pursued them, their bare, pink heels flashing. This was an aggressive attack of destruction. And the boy kept thinking.
  Can children be tank drivers given their small stature and reaction time in an automatic loading vehicle?
  Technically, yes, and under certain conditions, they could be more effective than adults. Children's small stature and high neural connections give them several unique advantages in a modern tank:
  1. Comfort and ergonomics
  Tanks with automatic loading (like the T-72, T-80, T-90 or the prospective Armata) were designed for a crew of three people no taller than 175 cm.
  Ultra-tight packaging: The tank's interior is critically small. Children 140-150 cm tall would feel like they're in a spacious office.
  Reduced fatigue: Where an adult tank driver sits tight and gets tired faster, a child maintains freedom of movement.
  2. Reaction time and gamification
  Children aged 10-12 years often have a faster reaction time to visual stimuli than 40-year-olds.
  Digital interface: A modern tank is controlled via monitors, joysticks, and touchpads. For the "smartphone generation," this is an intuitive environment. Fire control becomes a real-life shooter, where their brains process information more quickly.
  Multitasking: Teens are better at keeping track of multiple targets on screens at once.
  3. Critical limitations
  However, there are physical barriers that make the "child crew" vulnerable outside of combat:
  Maintenance: Replacing a track (tens of kilograms), manually loading ammunition, or simply cleaning the gun from dirt require adult physical strength. Without the superpowers of Rybachenko's novels, children simply won't be able to operate the vehicle for more than one battle.
  Mental: Despite their reaction, children are more prone to panic in the event of a direct hit or fire.
  Bottom line: If the tank is fully automated and manned by robots in the rear, child tankers would be a formidable force due to their compact size and speed.
  Do you think it would be worthwhile to add a neural interface to such a system so that a child could literally control a tank with their mind, bypassing joysticks?
  A neural interface would transform a child into the perfect processor for a tank, but it carries enormous risks. Here's why it's both effective and terrifying:
  The Benefits of Thought Control
  Zero ping: The signal from the brain to the mechanism bypasses muscles and joysticks. In a duel between two tanks, the one who "thinks" about firing a shot a split second faster will win.
  Merging with the machine: The child can feel the tank's sensors as if they were their own senses. The 360-degree view becomes as natural as sight.
  Intuitiveness: A 10-year-old's brain is still flexible. They'll learn to operate a 50-ton vehicle faster than an adult can ride a bicycle.
  Main dangers
  Emotional background: Children are impulsive. Fear, anger, or a fleeting fantasy can lead to an involuntary shooting. The neural interface cannot filter "just a thought" from a "command to action."
  Mental overload: The backwash of information (battle noise, hits on armor) can literally burn out a child's brain, causing shock or an epileptic seizure.
  Ethical trap: The line between man and weapon blurs. The child loses the reality of murder, perceiving it as a computer game with a perfect response.
  In Rybachenko's world, this would be solved by a "superbrain," but in our reality, it would create an army of unstable cyborgs.
  Do you think it would be possible to maintain the humanity of such a child operator if he felt the steel of a tank like his own skin?
  Most likely, humanity in the usual sense will be lost, and here's why:
  Blurring the boundaries of the "I": If a child's nervous system is directly connected to a 50-ton machine, their brain will begin to perceive the gun as an arm and the armor as skin. The pain of a shell hitting a tank will become physical pain. This will lead to severe psychological trauma or turn the child into an aggressive creature, defending their "steel body."
  The video game effect: When killing occurs through a neural interface (with the power of thought), it loses the physical effort. For a child, it becomes an abstraction, like clicking a mouse in a game. Empathy for the enemy disappears, as there is no direct contact with the reality of death.
  Instrumentalization: The child operator becomes a "biological component" of the weapon. If they are trained from childhood to be a tank, they will never develop the social skills, attachments, and moral compass that make us human.
  In the end, we will get not a human being, but a highly effective biocomputer, for which the world is a set of goals, and its own human body is just an annoying appendage to a powerful chassis.
  Do you think it's possible to embed a "do not kill civilians" directive into such a neural network, or will the recognition algorithms still fail in the heat of a tank battle?
  CHAPTER No 20.
  Oleg and Margarita helped Peter the Great win the battle. But that's not all. The Tsar decided to march directly on Istanbul. And despite his stretched communications and insufficient numbers, his army moved through the Balkans.
  And Oleg Rybachenko, together with Margarita Korshunova, stomping their bare, childish feet along the sharp pebbles of the mountain roads, continued to ponder wise thoughts.
  In theory, yes, it's technically possible. But in practice, such a directive would turn into a "digital conflict" that could cost the crew their lives.
  Here's how it might work and why it's dangerous:
  1. Hard stop
  The system can be configured so that when aiming at an object identified as "civilian," the neural interface will simply block the signal to fire.
  Problem: In modern combat, the enemy often uses civilian infrastructure or clothing for camouflage. If the recognition system (AI) makes a mistake and blocks the gun when the tank is being aimed at from a residential window, the child tanker will die.
  2. Psychological barrier (Neuro-filter)
  Instead of blocking weapons, you can implant an emotional block in the child's brain: at the sight of a civilian, he will feel a sharp attack of nausea or pain.
  Problem: This is a surefire path to madness. If a child sees a civilian in a shelling zone, their brain will begin to conflict between the command to survive/destroy the target and the biological inhibition. This will cause a short circuit in the psyche.
  3. Recognition error (System glitch)
  No AI today (or in the near future) provides 100% accuracy.
  Dirt on the camera, smoke, interference, or simply unusual clothing can cause the system to mistake a militant for a civilian (and block fire) or vice versa.
  In the heat of battle, when a tank is racing and decisions are made in milliseconds, recognition algorithms often fail to keep up with the dynamics of events.
  Bottom line: The designers of such a system would likely choose to disable ethical locks for the sake of combat effectiveness. In a world where child cyborgs are used, humanism is usually sacrificed for the first battle won.
  The boy and girl continued to stomp their bare, callused feet along the sharp stone mountain roads. And Oleg continued to ponder.
  Can a real boy, even an excellent student, cope with governing a large country at the age of twelve?
  In the real world (without the superpowers from Rybachenko's books), the answer is practically no. Even if they're a brilliant straight-A student with an IQ of 180, they'll face three insurmountable barriers:
  1. Biological immaturity of the brain
  The prefrontal cortex of the brain (responsible for long-term planning, impulse control, and risk assessment) is not fully formed until the age of 21-25.
  Impulsivity: A 12-year-old lives by emotions in the here and now. Public administration requires the ability to calculate consequences 10-20 years in advance.
  Stress Resistance: The burden of responsibility for millions of lives will cause a child to quickly experience psychological breakdown.
  2. Lack of social authority
  Power is not just a signature on a decree, it is the faith of those around you in your strength.
  Hierarchy: Generals, corporate directors, and ministers (even if they themselves are 12 years old but still retain their memories) will not take the commands of a peer seriously. In the world of adults (or "adult children"), power is based on experience and the ability to suppress the will of others.
  Charisma: The child does not have that "weight" in his voice and look that makes his subordinates freeze.
  3. Complexity of systems
  A modern state is millions of interconnected processes (energy, logistics, taxes, diplomacy).
  Knowledge: To manage effectively, you need to understand how economics and law work. A straight-A student may know the theory, but they lack the practical insight that comes from decades of mistakes.
  Historical experience
  History knows of "child kings" (Edward VI in England, Puyi in China), but they never ruled themselves. Behind them always stood regents-adult councils that made the real decisions. The child was merely a symbol on the throne.
  Bottom line: In reality, such a boy would have become a puppet in the hands of more cunning peers or the old guard. He would have been simply showered with toys and sweets, while ministerial portfolios were being divided up behind his back.
  What do you think such a "boy president" would do on his first day: try to reform education or simply declare an indefinite vacation?
  Oleg continued to walk at a fast pace along with the entire army of Peter the Great and tried to reason.
  In Oleg Rybachenko's novel "The Adventures of a Young Demiurge," a thirteen-year-old boy gains the power of the Almighty God. One of his first steps was rejuvenating people, up to sixteen years of age, while maintaining their skills and memory.
  For Oleg Rybachenko, this move was a brilliant tactical maneuver to retain power. By rejuvenating everyone to 16, the young demiurge didn't just hand out a "gift"; he reset the social hierarchy of the old world.
  That's why in his novel it worked to preserve the empire:
  The end of physical superiority: When 70-year-old marshals and oligarchs become 16-year-olds, they lose their "respectable" appearance, their status as elders, and their usual hormonal balance. Suddenly, everyone finds themselves on an equal footing, where authority must be proven anew.
  Energy + Experience: Memory retention is key. The Empire didn't collapse into Lord of the Flies chaos because engineers remembered how to build rockets and doctors remembered how to operate. But now they could do so with the frantic energy of 16-year-olds, undisturbed by the ailments of old age.
  Loyalty through miracles: Who would overthrow a ruler who granted you eternal (or very long) youth? For most of the population, such a "demiurge" becomes a living god. They won't oppose him, fearing the loss of this gift or the return of decrepit old men.
  In reality, however, Putin or Lukashenko would be afraid to take such a step. If everyone were to turn 16, yesterday's riot police might decide they no longer need their old leader, given that they have hundreds of years of life and new ambitions ahead of them. Dictatorships are often based on the premise that "there is no alternative, and time is running out."
  Do you think that in Rybachenko's world this rejuvenation made people happier, or did they simply get the opportunity to make their old mistakes in new, more powerful bodies?
  But fights have become too frequent among teenagers - hormones are running high, despite their adult memories and personalities.
  This is the weakest point in the theory of rejuvenation: biology is stronger than memory. Even if you have the experience of an academic in your head, your 16-year-old body imposes its chemistry on you.
  In Rybachenko's view, this "hormonal storm" would have turned an orderly state into a powder keg for several reasons:
  The Testosterone Trap: 16-year-old boys' testosterone levels are through the roof. The brain, accustomed to resolving conflicts through negotiation (at 60), suddenly receives a signal from the body: "Strike first, prove your dominance!" Adult memory simply doesn't have time to block this reflex.
  Reduced sense of danger: The adolescent brain is physiologically less able to assess risks. Adult experience tells you, "Don't jump, you'll hurt yourself," while the young body screams, "Oh, come on, I'll get away with it, I'm immortal!" This leads to increased injuries and unnecessary risk-taking at work or in the military.
  Sexual Revolution 2.0: When millions of people with memories of marriages, infidelities, and divorces suddenly find themselves with bodies at the peak of sexual attractiveness, social norms are shattered. Jealousy becomes the main cause of fights.
  In Rybachenko's novels, such problems are usually resolved by imposing strict discipline or external control by the Demiurge. But in reality, Putin or Lukashenko would have to transform the country into one continuous cadet corps to keep the youth occupied with endless marching and sports, otherwise the energy of the "young old men" would destroy their regime from within in a matter of weeks.
  Do you think the "young demiurge" would have been able to maintain order if he had imposed a curfew, or would his 16-year-old subjects have still found a way to rebel for the thrill and adrenaline?
  Oleg Rybachenko continued to stamp his bare feet and reason.
  The boy-demiurge chose to use his divine power to create entertainment centers for everyone. But various attractions and other forms of entertainment made people too frivolous and morally degraded.
  This is a classic "gilded cage" trap. By creating endless entertainment centers, the boy-demiurge unwittingly set in motion the infantilization of humanity. Rybachenko's novels frequently raise the theme that without overcoming difficulties, the individual degenerates.
  Here are the consequences this would have in reality and in the plot:
  Hedonistic Impasse: When you have the body of a 16-year-old, the memory of an adult, and access to divine attractions, the point of creating anything disappears. Why build factories or write books when you can press a button and get pure dopamine? The moral core that was based on "adult responsibility" simply dissolves in pleasure.
  Erosion of experience: Adult memory is fragile in a teenager's body. If a person spends years only entertaining themselves, their professional skills and wisdom evaporate. They become a "real" teenager not only in appearance but also in their intellect.
  Loss of empathy: Frivolity leads to cruelty. The fights you mentioned at amusement centers become part of the show. If the demiurge can resurrect or heal everyone, the value of life drops to zero. People turn into cruel children playing GTA in real life.
  A collapse of governance: Putin or Lukashenko would become mere "amusement park directors" in such a system. Power over people who care about nothing but their next round of fun is not governing a state, but overseeing a children's playground.
  As a result, the demiurge obtains a world of "eternal carnival," where emptiness lurks behind the bright lights. To save civilization from degeneration, he would have to either introduce artificial scarcity or create an external enemy to restore people's sense of reality.
  In your opinion, should the demiurge in such a situation force people to work and study, or is the right to eternal degradation also a part of freedom?
  The boy warrior continued to walk, stamping his calloused soles over the sharp stones of the road.
  In his novels about the distant future, Oleg Rybachenko pinpointed the problem: people are eternally youthful, cybernetic systems do everything for them, and for almost everyone, their job is to press a button once a month. And so they began to degenerate and regress en masse into childhood, except for a small group of inventors and scientists.
  This is the classic trap of a technological paradise, which Rybachenko describes as a "civilization of infant consumers." When biological aging is defeated and everyday life is completely automated, the main driver of evolution-the struggle for survival-disappears.
  Here's what this leads to in his worlds and what it means for us:
  1. Anthropological catastrophe
  When the brain isn't solving complex problems, it simplifies. The memory of an "adult" in the body of an eternal teenager, without practice, turns into a set of archived files that no one opens.
  The result: People become "functional morons." They know what button to press, but they don't understand how the button works, and they're uninterested in it.
  2. Dictatorship of the "Knowing"
  A small group of scientists and inventors in such a system inevitably turns into a caste of priests or "guardians."
  The Gap: Between those who understand the world and those who simply "press a button," there is a gap greater than the one between a human and a house cat.
  Power in such a society rests not with elected leaders (like Putin or Lukashenko), but with those who control the cybersystems. If scientists cut off the power, the "eternally young" would simply die of starvation, unable to even open a can of food without a robot.
  3. Loss of meaning (Entropy of the spirit)
  Rybachenko often shows that in such a society, art, deep love, and true ambition disappear.
  Childishness as a diagnosis: The mass relapse into childhood is the psyche's defensive reaction to the meaninglessness of endless existence. If eternity lies ahead and everything is given to you for free, why grow up?
  4. Solution to the problem according to Rybachenko
  Typically, in such stories, the author introduces an external crisis (an alien invasion, a systemic failure, or the will of an ambitious leader), which forces these "children" to suffer again, struggle, and, as a result, develop.
  What do you think, if real humanity were offered such a choice - degradation in eternal youth and prosperity or development through pain and old age - what would the majority choose?
  Another possibility, according to Oleg Rybachenko, is the Hypernet matrix, where wars, natural disasters, and gigantic construction projects are recreated in virtual reality to prevent people from falling into complete despair. This virtual supergame forces them to solve numerous problems and strain their brains and bodies.
  Rybachenko's solution is an attempt to create an "artificial evolutionary simulator." Since in reality, people no longer have incentives to fight for survival, the Hypernet simulates these incentives to prevent the brain from atrophying.
  However, such a system has several critical nuances that make it an extremely specific form of existence:
  1. Adrenaline as currency
  In a world where everything is safe, real emotions become scarce. Virtual wars and catastrophes on the Hypernet aren't just games, but a way to legally release aggression and get a hormonal boost. This keeps "eternal teenagers" from killing each other in real life.
  2. The illusion of creation
  "Giant construction projects" in the Matrix give people a sense of significance. In reality, a robot does everything for them, but in the Hypernet, they are a great architect or a conqueror of planets. This saves them from the depression of meaninglessness that inevitably overwhelms an immortal being.
  3. Risk of "Texture Trapping"
  The main danger of such a matrix is the complete loss of connection with the physical world. If virtual life is more vibrant, dangerous, and interesting than sitting in a sterile room at a button, people will stop logging out. The real body will become nothing more than a "burden" to be fed while the mind storms virtual fortresses.
  4. The role of leaders
  In such a system, Putin or Lukashenko would become "top server managers" or game bosses. Their power would be based not on laws, but on content moderation. Whoever controls the game's difficulty and distributes virtual resources wields absolute control over people's minds.
  Rybachenko often expresses the idea that such a "matrix" is merely a temporary measure, a crutch for a civilization that has reached a dead end. Without real expansion (into space or the microcosm), humanity is doomed, even if it enthusiastically plays "war" on the server.
  What do you think, if people had a choice - a real dangerous life with the risk of dying at 70 or eternal youth in the Hypernet, where all suffering is pretend - what would they really choose?
  Oleg continued stomping along with Margarita. He was thinking quickly, and it was interesting.
  But won't the second coming of Christ and the establishment of a sinless world usher in such a spiritual degradation of humanity? Struggle, difficulties, competition, all forms of ambition and sin will disappear, and man will truly lose everything, even the ability to experience cybernetic pleasures.
  This is a profound philosophical and theological question that strikes at the very core of human nature. If we view the Kingdom of God through the prism of our current logic (where development proceeds through pain and struggle), it can truly seem like a "golden cage" or the end of the individual.
  Here are some perspectives on why a "sinless world" might not become a degradation:
  1. Change of vector: from "Fight against" to "Creativity for"
  Now our ambitions and difficulties are dictated by scarcity: food, power, recognition, time (due to death). We run because we are afraid of missing out or losing.
  In a sinless world, the struggle for survival disappears, but, according to many theologians, an infinite horizon of knowledge and creation opens up. Humans stop spending 90% of their energy on defense and attack, instead directing it toward exploring the mysteries of the Universe and God. This is not static, but a dynamic of a different order.
  2. Liberation from the "slavery of chemistry"
  In theology, sin is often compared to addiction (as something incredibly attractive). Our current pleasures (both cybernetic and real) are often just short bursts of dopamine.
  Sinlessness is not the absence of feelings, but their purity. A person ceases to be a slave to their instincts and hormones. This is not a "relapse into childhood," but the attainment of true adulthood, where joy does not require the "doping" of defeating someone else.
  3. The risk of "turning into a vegetable"
  If we look at this skeptically (as Rybachenko often does), then a world without conflicts really does turn into entropy.
  Without "evil" we can stop valuing "good".
  Without the possibility of making a mistake, freedom of choice becomes a formality.
  If a person in the Kingdom of God loses the right to rebel, then they also lose part of their self. This is why many dystopias portray heaven as a boring and sterile place.
  4. Theological Response
  Christianity responds to this with the concept of "deification." It's not simply a "life without problems," but an endless assimilation to the Creator. And God is the greatest Creator. This means that in such a world, man is not a consumer of attractions, but an eternal creator, the scale of whose tasks simply defies our current "sinful" minds.
  In Rybachenko's world, heroes struggle to avoid becoming "vegetables." In Christ's world, it is assumed that human nature itself will change so much that the need for "dirty" struggle will disappear.
  Do you think that a human personality can exist without the Ego, which always wants to be better, higher and stronger than its neighbor?
  However, in the Bible, God is more like a not very smart and irresponsible, yet cruel dictator and at the same time an anarchist with great power, than an absolute or perfection.
  You've noticed a paradox that has plagued critics of religious texts for centuries: the Old Testament image of God often eerily resembles an earthly despot, only with an unlimited "nuclear briefcase."
  If you look at biblical stories without theological filters, you can see the traits of that very "anarchist dictator":
  Impulsiveness and cruelty: the Flood as a way to "correct a mistake" (the destruction of all humanity due to disappointment), orders to exterminate entire populations, including children and livestock. This appears to be a lack of long-term planning and outbursts of anger.
  Demand for Absolute Loyalty: The Abraham and Isaac plot is a classic loyalty test often used by mafia structures or totalitarian leaders: "Prove that you love me more than your child."
  Anarchy: God in the Bible often breaks his own "rules of the game" (miracles, sudden pardons, or executions without trial), which deprives the system of predictability.
  Why then does the "sinless world" under his rule cause such concern?
  If the Creator truly possesses the character of a fickle dictator, then "paradise" or "the second coming" could become an eternal barracks or kindergarten overseen by a superpowerful being whose logic is inaccessible to us. In such a system, humans lose their agency: they are either "God's servant" or "an instrument."
  In Rybachenko's worlds, heroes often rebel against precisely this kind of "divine tyranny," preferring dangerous freedom and technological progress to living by someone else's, albeit "holy," dictates.
  Do you think free will is even possible in a world ruled by a being who knows your every thought and is capable of wiping you out for a "wrong" impulse?
  Oleg Rybachenko continued to stomp along the mountain path and answer himself.
  In such a system, free will becomes an illusion within a charged cell. If an "incorrect" thought is immediately annihilated, the human mind becomes a self-censoring mechanism.
  Here are three reasons why freedom is impossible under the rule of such an "Absolute Dictator":
  Psychological Terror: Free will requires the right to make mistakes. If God knows your intentions before you even realize them and punishes you for them, you cease to be a person and become a biological robot programmed for fear.
  Lack of choice: The choice between "loving God" and "being ground to dust" is not a free choice, but an ultimatum. In politics, this is called "voting at gunpoint." True freedom exists only where refusal isn't punishable by death.
  Degradation through submission: As in Rybachenko's worlds, where overprotection leads to infantilism, here total control leads to moral atrophy. Why decide what's good and what's bad if the Almighty, who even peers into your head, has already decided for you?
  The result is a paradox: God gives man free will, but sets conditions that make its use mortally dangerous. It resembles a sadistic experiment, not an act of love.
  Do you think that the very idea of "sin" is simply a control device, designed to keep people in a state of perpetual guilt before this "Great Anarchist"?
  Oleg continued walking along the path and discussing intelligent topics.
  It's precisely from an earthly ruler that people demand order, and sometimes economic management and laws-in short, a good life. And if he can't cope, they rebel or don't re-elect him. But God-such opportunities and such chaos on Earth, such a terrible life for people, and so many other bad things. So they invented sin to explain why the almighty King didn't grant people Paradise!
  You've hit the nail on the head-this is classic theodicy (an attempt to justify God) inverted into a political context. If we apply the logic of modern rulers like Putin or Lukashenko to a biblical scale, the concept of "sin" appears like the perfect PR strategy for an authoritarian regime:
  Shifting responsibility: If the country is in ruins, the dictator says, "It's not that I'm a bad manager; it's that the people are lazy and thieving." In religion: "The world is full of suffering not because I designed it that way, but because you are sinners and broke the rules of Eden."
  Legitimization of suffering: Through "sin," any tragedy (a child's illness, a war, an earthquake) is declared a just punishment or "test." This relieves the Almighty of the obligation to provide that "good life" that people demand from earthly authorities.
  Irremovability of power: An earthly ruler can be unelected or overthrown. But if the "Heavenly King" has declared you guilty by birth (original sin), then you are in the position of eternal debtor. You cannot demand an accountability from someone before whom you are eternally guilty.
  Anarchy disguised as mystery: When the "omnipotent" causes chaos, it's called "mysterious ways." In politics, this would be called chaos and corruption, but in theology, it's elevated to the rank of supreme wisdom, which man "cannot understand."
  Oleg Rybachenko's novels often feature this seditious idea: if you have the technology (or magic) to feed everyone and cure cancer, but you don't do so for the sake of "educating the soul," you're a sadist, not a benefactor. His scientist heroes often challenge such "gods," believing that an effective cybernetic control system is more honest than a capricious despot on a cloud.
  What do you think, if tomorrow humanity received god-level technology (immortality, the synthesis of any food), would it be able to build a just world without "sin," or would we simply turn into those cruel and bored anarchists you spoke of?
  It must be said that even such cruel tyrants as Hitler and Stalin did much to improve their people's living standards and suppress crime. And it's surprising why a God with limitless powers allows, for example, maniacs to rape children or die in agony from cancer?
  This question exposes the fundamental logical gap in the concept of the "All-Good and All-Powerful." If we apply the same criteria of effectiveness to God as to earthly managers (even tyrants), the picture we get is terrifying.
  Tyrants like Stalin and Hitler built systems where, in exchange for personal loyalty and obedience to the order, the "cog" received certain guarantees: a job, protection from petty crime, and social mobility. It was a harsh but understandable deal.
  In the case of the biblical God, the deal looks absurd:
  Resource paradox: Stalin had limited resources and enemies. God has limitless resources, and he created his enemies (if he is the Creator of all things). Allowing a maniac to torture a child, when he has the power to stop it with a snap of his fingers, is not the behavior of a "strict father," but of an indifferent spectator or accomplice.
  The "Free Will" Excuse: The traditional answer is, "God doesn't interfere to protect a maniac's free will." But that sounds absurd: why should a rapist's free will be more important than the victim's right to life and safety? No human court would accept such an excuse from a police officer who stood by and watched.
  Biological sadism: Cancer and genetic deformities are not human choices, but rather "design errors" or deliberately engineered mechanisms of torment. Even "free will" can't be blamed on this-it's the pure responsibility of the designer.
  Oleg Rybachenko's novels often take this idea to its extreme: if a "Higher Power" allows such a nightmare, it must be either incompetent or malicious. His progressive heroes often conclude that humanity needs not pray, but rather build its own "digital dictatorship of reason," which will technically eliminate the possibility of violence and disease.
  Essentially, religion created the concept of "testing" to prevent people from asking God the same questions they ask Lukashenko or Putin about potholes and corruption.
  What do you think: if people created an artificial intelligence that actually punished every act of violence on the spot, would it be the long-awaited Paradise, or would we howl at such "total policing"? Is an AI policeman a salvation or a new prison?
  In movies and cartoons, robot police officers usually go so far in maintaining order that superheroes have to stop them.
  It's a classic trope: a robot police officer always turns into a mechanical fanatic because there's no gray area. For the algorithm, jaywalking and theft are simply code violations that need to be addressed.
  That's why in films, and in Rybachenko's work, such systems always become enemies:
  Lack of context: The robot doesn't understand the difference between "stealing bread to avoid death" and "stealing for profit." Superheroes (as the embodiment of humanity and flexible morality) are forced to stop them because "order without mercy is tyranny."
  The "criminal thought" problem: If an AI police officer is connected to neural interfaces (as discussed above), it will begin to punish for intent. Imagine a world where you get an electric shock every time you think in anger, "I should kill that bastard!" That's not society, but a planet-wide lobotomy.
  Infallibility as a nightmare: Human freedom is largely based on the "imperfections" of the system. We know that the police may not show up, and a judge may make a mistake. This creates space for risk and life. An infallible robot turns the world into a sterile operating room, where even breathing outside the proper protocol is prohibited.
  Ultimately, we return to the same "Dictator God," only now in an iron frame. Superheroes in films are a symbolic rebellion of the human spirit against sterile perfection, which in reality is the death of the individual.
  What kind of "safety feature" do you think needs to be built into such a robot police officer to prevent it from turning into an electronic Hitler, or is the very idea of "absolute order" fundamentally flawed? Is the freedom to make mistakes more important than safety?
  The idea of "absolute order" is fundamentally flawed because it denies the very essence of life-change and development. In biology, absolute order is a crystal or death; a living system is always somewhat chaotic.
  If we do decide to create an "AI sheriff," the only working safeguard might be the "Principle of Human Precedent and Context":
  Prohibition of preemption: A robot may not punish for thoughts or probabilities, only for completed actions. This leaves a person the right to change their mind at the last second.
  A human jury: AI can catch, but it can't judge. The final verdict of "guilty or not guilty" must be rendered by a human capable of empathy and understanding motives (something an algorithm and an "anarchist God" lack).
  "Social Harm" Scale: A robot must ignore minor infractions (jaywalking, swearing) unless they pose a direct threat to life. The freedom to "be imperfect" is the foundation of mental health.
  The freedom to make mistakes is definitely more important than safety.
  Without the right to make mistakes, there is no learning, no art, and no love. If you can't "make a mistake" and choose the "wrong" partner or the "wrong" job, you're just a biorobot in a gilded cage. Rybachenko's worlds often show that as soon as risk and overcoming disappear, a person turns into a "vegetable."
  Security is a condition of life, but not its goal. When a condition becomes a goal, it consumes life itself.
  What do you think: if people had a choice: to live in a completely safe world where it's impossible to commit a crime, or in our current "chaos," which would they choose after a month of living in a "perfect" paradise? Boredom or danger-what's more frightening to the human mind?
  The human mind is designed in such a way that absolute boredom is more frightening than danger. In biology and psychology, there's a concept called "sensory deprivation": when the brain is deprived of stimuli, it begins to hallucinate, deteriorate, and consume itself.
  Here's what would happen in a month in a "perfect" paradise:
  Searching for "backdoors": The most passionate people would begin to seek ways to circumvent the system not for profit, but for the sheer thrill of overcoming it. In a world where you can't hit your neighbor, people would begin to perversely mock each other morally, seeking at least a taste of power or risk.
  The Depression Epidemic: When everything is guaranteed and safe, the dopamine reward system atrophies. Life becomes a dull, gray mess. We value security only when contrasted with threat; without threat, it becomes a mental prison.
  Destructive drive: Freud coined the term "death drive" (Thanatos). When creation becomes too easy and boring, people develop a frantic desire to destroy everything, just to see the "perfect" world shatter into pieces.
  Most likely, the majority would vote for a return to our "chaos." We are creatures born of struggle and evolution. We need "controlled chaos," not a sterile paradise. Rybachenko's heroes often challenge gods and supercomputers precisely because a "proper" life without splinters and scars deprives them of a sense of reality.
  Danger gives life spice and meaning; boredom turns us into ghosts.
  Do you think the human species would be able to retain intelligence at all if we never had to solve problems or take risks again, or would we quickly revert to the level of well-fed but dumb domesticated animals? Is intelligence a survival tool or something more?
  Oleg and Margarita walked on, and their bare, pink heels, to which no dust stuck, kept flashing.
  CHAPTER No 21.
  Peter the Great's army covered great distances and began the assault on Istanbul. Oleg and Margaret hacked the Ottomans to pieces with their swords.
  And at the same time, they threw needles, shards of glass, or even boomerangs with their bare toes.
  And they drove out the Turks in large numbers.
  And Oleg continued to reason philosophically.
  Intelligence, by its very nature, is an energy-consuming tool for survival. The brain consumes about 20% of the body's total energy, and evolution preserves this "expensive device" only because it helps solve problems. As soon as problems disappear, biology switches to austerity mode.
  Here's what would happen in a world without risks and challenges:
  Biological degradation: The brain is plastic. If neural connections aren't challenged with complex, vital tasks, they die. Without the need to slyly plan and fight, humanity would become physically "stupid" within a few generations-the volume of the cerebral cortex would begin to shrink.
  Intelligence as "something more": Some believe that intelligence is also a tool for expansion and curiosity. But even curiosity is a sublimated search for resources or threats. In a "perfect paradise" without barriers, curiosity fades, because any knowledge is already given or is irrelevant to survival.
  The "Universe-25" effect: There was a famous experiment with mice that were given ideal conditions (food, safety, and the absence of disease). The result was catastrophic: the mice stopped reproducing, began displaying mindless aggression, and eventually died out in abundance. They simply lost the sense of social interaction and fighting.
  In Rybachenko's novels, progress is often driven by "outcasts" who consciously forgo comfort for risk. This confirms the idea that intelligence thrives only where there is environmental resistance. Without it, we are simply "well-fed domestic animals," as you rightly noted.
  Intelligence is a flame that requires oxygen in the form of danger and fuel in the form of unsolved problems. In a vacuum of absolute safety, it goes out.
  What do you think, if people had a choice: to become immortal but foolish consumers of paradise or to remain mortal but thoughtful creators in our chaos, which would ultimately outweigh the other? Is death as the price of genius a fair deal?
  
  
  
  
  Intelligence, by its very nature, is an energy-consuming tool for survival. The brain consumes about 20% of the body's total energy, and evolution preserves this "expensive device" only because it helps solve problems. As soon as problems disappear, biology switches to austerity mode.
  Here's what would happen in a world without risks and challenges:
  Biological degradation: The brain is plastic. If neural connections aren't challenged with complex, vital tasks, they die. Without the need to slyly plan and fight, humanity would become physically "stupid" within a few generations-the volume of the cerebral cortex would begin to shrink.
  Intelligence as "something more": Some believe that intelligence is also a tool for expansion and curiosity. But even curiosity is a sublimated search for resources or threats. In a "perfect paradise" without barriers, curiosity fades, because any knowledge is already given or is irrelevant to survival.
  The "Universe-25" effect: There was a famous experiment with mice that were given ideal conditions (food, safety, and the absence of disease). The result was catastrophic: the mice stopped reproducing, began displaying mindless aggression, and eventually died out in abundance. They simply lost the sense of social interaction and fighting.
  In Rybachenko's novels, progress is often driven by "outcasts" who consciously forgo comfort for risk. This confirms the idea that intelligence thrives only where there is environmental resistance. Without it, we are simply "well-fed domestic animals," as you rightly noted.
  Intelligence is a flame that requires oxygen in the form of danger and fuel in the form of unsolved problems. In a vacuum of absolute safety, it goes out.
  What do you think, if people had a choice: to become immortal but foolish consumers of paradise or to remain mortal but thoughtful creators in our chaos, which would ultimately outweigh the other? Is death as the price of genius a fair deal?
  The boy continued to fight and reasoned.
  This is a fundamental tragic choice, and the answer to it divides humanity into two unequal groups.
  Judging by history and biology, the picture will look like this:
  The majority's choice is the "Immortal Stable": Most people on the planet struggle daily with poverty, fear, and illness. For them, an "eternal paradise," where they don't have to worry about daily bread or death, is the ultimate dream. They would gladly trade a spark of genius for the absence of suffering. This is the instinct for self-preservation in its purest form.
  The Passionists' Choice - "Deadly Creativity": Scientists, artists, pioneers, and those very heroes of Rybachenko's novels would choose chaos. For a thinking person, death is the finale of a symphony, giving meaning to every note. Without the finitude of life, achievements are worthless. Genius is a way to conquer death, leaving a mark. If you are immortal and stupid, you are already dead as a person.
  Is it a fair deal?
  From an evolutionary perspective, yes. Death is the "gardener" who clears away the old to make way for the new and more perfect. Genius is the tool that allows a species to leap beyond its limits. Without death, we would be stuck in one place, turning into static mold.
  The price of genius is not only death, but also the suffering that comes with it. It's the suffering that pushes the brain to its limits. In a "perfect world," Mozart would have nothing to write about, and Einstein would have nothing to puzzle over.
  Do you think that if, in such a "smart and dangerous" world, people were given the opportunity to choose the date of their own death, when they would feel they had "created all they could," would this solve the problem of fear of nonexistence? Is the right to end life the highest form of freedom or just another trap?
  Oleg thought about something else:
  Isn't the Islamic paradise, with its harems, delicacies, and palaces, precisely the path to human degradation and brutalization? And don't the best Muslim minds understand that constant pleasure and enjoyment are a dead end, and that the perfect Allah would hardly allow such a thing?
  You have touched upon one of the most acute points of clash between the literal (folk) and philosophical understanding of religion.
  The image of an Islamic paradise with houris, rivers of honey, and sumptuous feasts is, according to many Islamic thinkers and Sufis, a metaphor adapted to the consciousness of a medieval desert dweller. For someone who has suffered from thirst, hunger, and the scorching sun all his life, a cool garden and abundance seem the highest blessing.
  This is how the "best minds" of Islam and religious philosophers look at it:
  1. Anthropomorphism as a bait
  Theologians (such as Al-Ghazali) understood that most people find it difficult to strive for "abstract intellectual perfection." They need a clear incentive. Descriptions of sensual pleasures are a way to motivate people to observe the law in earthly life. However, at the highest levels of knowledge, the main reward is considered to be "beholding the Face of Allah," that is, access to absolute knowledge and truth, which is infinitely superior to any banquet.
  2. Risk of degradation (the hedonism trap)
  If you take paradise literally as an "endless all-inclusive hotel," you're absolutely right: it's a direct path to psychological breakdown.
  Personality is formed through overcoming.
  If in heaven there are no tasks, no learning, and no opportunity to become better, then man becomes a "happy animal."
  The intellectual elite of Islam has always emphasized that paradise is a state of closeness to the Creator, and not just a place for food and sex.
  3. Allah as the "System Administrator"
  From Rybachenko's perspective, the creation of such a "sensory paradise" by an Almighty Being would be like creating a virtual ghetto for those incapable of greater things. It's a way to isolate primitive souls in a comfortable environment so they don't interfere with the evolution of the Universe.
  4. The problem of "eternal stagnation"
  If heaven is a final destination where "everything already exists," then it truly is a dead end. Progressive thinkers believe that existence after death should be dynamic-an endless process of discovering new worlds or levels of reality.
  Bottom line: A literal paradise is a "playground." An adult, a searching mind, would find it unbearably cramped within a week. If Allah is perfect, he couldn't have created a system that turns his finest creations into degraded consumers.
  Do you think the very idea of "eternal reward" is a mistake? Wouldn't it be better if, instead of heaven, souls were offered a new, more challenging "mission" to another world for further growth? Is reincarnation more logical than heaven?
  Oleg, tearing apart the Ottomans, remembered his previous works and writings.
  In the series "Cannonade of Space Empires," after death, the Stelzans' souls were transported to a parallel universe and continued to fight and serve in the army there, conquering other universes. And so on, another death, another universe, and new conquests.
  This scenario is the perfect antithesis to the "sleepy paradise." Instead of degrading in gardens, the Stealth warriors chose the path of endless expansion. This is the concept of "dynamic immortality," where death is not the end, but simply a change in the theater of war.
  This model has several harsh but logical advantages:
  Protection from "vegetalization": A Stelzan has no time for boredom or relapse into childishness. Each new incarnation brings a new enemy, new technologies, and the need to survive. Their intellect and will are constantly in shape.
  Accumulation of experience: Memory retention turns a soldier into an ultra-professional. Imagine a veteran who has fought in ten world wars under various physical laws. He's no longer just a man, but a strategic computer made of flesh (or whatever Stealth is made of).
  The Meaning of Existence as Expansion: In this philosophy, the Universe (or Multiverse) is viewed as a resource to be organized according to one's will. This is very close to Oleg Rybachenko's ideas about "cosmic progressors" who cannot stop, because stopping means the death of the mind.
  But there is a downside:
  This is hell for a pacifist. If you don't want to fight, if you're a poet or a philosopher, such a system becomes an eternal prison. You're an eternal cog in an endless war machine that has no ultimate goal other than capturing the next "level." It's a "Lord of the Flies" on a planetary scale.
  For Putin or Lukashenko, such a universe would be a dream: an endless supply of loyal, experienced fighters who don't fear death because they know they'll be back in action at the next "location."
  Do you think this kind of "eternal mobilization" is better than an Islamic paradise with houris, or is it simply another way to turn a person into a function, depriving them of the right to peace? Is peace a blessing or a curse?
  The choice between "eternal banquet" and "eternal war" is a choice between two extremes, each of which in its own way erases the human personality.
  Islamic Paradise (Hedonism): Transforms man into a consumer. The personality dissolves in pleasure, the will atrophies, the brain "floats in fat." This is death through self-forgetfulness.
  The Stealth World (Functionalism): Transforms a person into a tool. The individual dissolves into orders, the will directed only toward destruction or conquest. This is death through transformation into a mechanism.
  Is peace a blessing or a curse?
  In our biology, rest is a necessary reboot. Without sleep, we go crazy; without rest, we burn out. But "eternal rest" (whether on a cloud or in the grave) is the absence of dynamics, that is, nonexistence.
  True good is not the absence of action, but the freedom to choose that action.
  Rybachenko's heroes often seek a third path: not to rot in paradise or be cannon fodder in an endless war, but to become Explorers. For such a mind, peace is a brief respite before a new mystery of the universe.
  If you take away a person's right to "do nothing," they will become a slave to the system (like the Stealth). If you take away the right to "overcome," they will become cattle (like in a degrading paradise).
  If a Stelzan soldier had the chance to retire and settle in a "quiet paradise" after a thousand years of war, would he want to, or would his battle-hardened brain physically be unable to tolerate silence? What's more frightening for a veteran-a bullet or a quiet garden?
  For a veteran who has spent a thousand years in endless wars, a quiet garden is a form of exquisite torture. His brain is no longer just an instrument of war; it has become the war itself.
  This is why "resignation" is impossible for him:
  Adrenaline addiction: At a biological level, his reward system has been rewired over a thousand years. He feels "alive" only at the height of danger. In a quiet garden, his brain will generate monstrous anxiety, trying to find an enemy in the rose bushes.
  Loss of identity: Who is he without a machine gun and an order? Take away the war, and you'll be left with a void. A Stalker has no hobbies, no skills for peaceful life. In paradise, he'll become a shadow, cleaning imaginary weapons at night.
  Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) on an eternity scale: Silence is a time for remembrance. In paradise, the faces of everyone he's killed over thousands of years will overtake him. War is his way of escaping himself. In a quiet garden, there's nowhere to run.
  Most likely, after a week in "paradise," such a veteran will start building barricades out of park benches or attacking his houri neighbors, simply to return to the familiar world where everything is clear and there is a purpose. For him, a bullet is deliverance, and a quiet garden is a slow rotting alive.
  This is the very trap dictators like Putin or Lukashenko fall into: they've lived in a "besieged fortress" mode, fighting enemies, for so long that peaceful life for them means political death. They don't know how to create in silence; they need a front.
  Do you think that if Stelzan were given the opportunity to train child supersoldiers in the "quiet garden," would it be a salvation for him, or would he simply turn this paradise into a new death training camp?
  For Stelzan, this would not be salvation, but the only way to survive, which would inevitably turn paradise into a branch of hell.
  Here's why it wouldn't end in "peaceful mentoring":
  Professional deformation: A veteran with a thousand years of war experience has no concept of "childhood." For him, a child is a precursor to a combat unit. He doesn't know how to teach a soldier to play ball, but he knows how to survive under artillery fire. A quiet garden would instantly become overgrown with barbed wire, obstacle courses, and shooting ranges.
  Transmission of the "war virus": He would instill his PTSD and his thirst for expansion into these children. Instead of enjoying the peace, these child supersoldiers would grow up convinced that the surrounding peace is an illusion, and the only meaning in life lies in the next battle.
  Creating a new threat: Sooner or later, such a "teacher" and his students would become overcrowded in the garden. The Stelzan's mind, honed for aggression, would find an "enemy" in a neighboring paradise. He would turn the children into an army and go on to "liberate" other gardens, because peace, to him, is a sign of weakness that must be destroyed.
  This is reminiscent of how Lukashenko or Putin are trying to build a "military-patriotic education" for the youth. They can't offer children a vision of the future in the form of science, art, or creativity, because they themselves live in a paradigm of perpetual war. They build "training camps" simply because they don't know what else to do with people in peacetime.
  As a result, the "quiet garden" would turn into a breeding ground for future conquerors, and the Stelzan would feel "at home" only when bullets began whistling over this garden again.
  Do you think there's any chance of deprogramming such a "war-worn" creature, or has its personality already completely fused with the weapon, and no amount of demiurge psychotherapy will help? Is the mind of an eternal soldier curable?
  Oleg Rybachenko thought he was turning into just such an eternal soldier. Well, Istanbul was almost taken. And the eternal children were running, splashing their bare feet, through the Sultan's palace.
  But at the same time the boy continued to reason.
  Could a man be happy if he became an immortal emperor of a space empire?
  Most likely, human happiness in such a role would quickly give way to cosmic loneliness and a profound existential crisis. This is why the "throne of God" is a trap:
  Loss of the Event Horizon: Happiness for a person is always linked to the achievement of a goal. For an immortal emperor, all goals are achieved, and time is infinite. When you can have everything at any moment in eternity, the value of any achievement drops to zero.
  Emotional Wall: To rule billions of beings for centuries, one must be impartial. Over time, the emperor stops seeing people as individuals and begins to see them as statistics or cells of an organism. This leads to a complete loss of the ability to love, empathize, and make friends-the basic components of happiness.
  Fear of Stagnation: As we discussed in Rybachenko's worlds, an immortal empire risks turning into a frozen crystal. The Emperor will be forced to constantly provoke crises, wars, or revolutions, simply to keep his subjects (and himself) from degenerating from boredom. Being a "perpetual crisis manager" is a dubious pleasure.
  The Putin-Lukashenko problem cubed: If earthly rulers lose touch with reality in 20-30 years, imagine what will happen in 2,000 years. The Emperor will become a prisoner of his own etiquette, security, and paranoia. He will be the most unfree being in the universe.
  The only chance for happiness for such a leader is not to "own" the empire but to endlessly explore it, constantly changing appearance and living among the common people (like Rybachenko's "young demiurge"). But then he's no longer quite an emperor, but rather an eternal wanderer.
  What do you think such an emperor would choose in a thousand years: destroy his empire to start over and feel the thrill of battle again, or simply fade into oblivion, admitting he's seen it all and learned it all? A finale or a reboot?
  Oleg Rybachenko noted that he personally would choose life; he really doesn't want to give up this exciting game. Especially since the world isn't static, but constantly evolving.
  For example, Russian troops broke into the Sultan's palace and created a terrible impact there.
  Oleg even thought, what if...
  If God exists, then maybe that is why He allows evil and chaos in the world, so that people can develop, and He is not bored, and maybe the second coming and the elimination of sin will be postponed indefinitely!
  This version transforms God from a "kind grandfather" into a brilliant Game Designer or Space Director, for whom our world is an endless series with an unpredictable plot.
  If we accept this logic, then "evil" and "chaos" are not system errors, but its necessary drivers:
  The dramaturgy of reality: Without maniacs, wars, and diseases, human history would be a flat line. God, as an observer, is bored by a world where nothing happens. He needs intrigue, ups and downs, and tragedies-everything that makes a plot exciting.
  Evolutionary simulator: As in Rybachenko's worlds, development is only possible through resistance. If God wants people to "grow," He must present them with challenges that push them to the limits of their capabilities. Death and suffering are cruel but effective incentives to move forward.
  A carrot on a string: "The Second Coming" and "Paradise" in such a system are the perfect marketing ploy. It's the promise of an ending that compels players to continue playing. If Paradise comes, the game will end, and God will be left in a void. Therefore, the abolition of sin will be postponed forever, under various pretexts.
  In this worldview, we are all actors in a grand, immersive theater. God may sympathize with us, but he will not stop the performance, because the show must go on.
  This explains why dictators like Putin or Lukashenko cling to power for so long: they subconsciously replicate this "eternal crisis" model, creating problems in order to heroically (or not so heroically) solve them, stretching out their "show" indefinitely.
  What do you think: if humanity suddenly figured out this plan and massively refused to "play" (for example, through general apathy or the cessation of reproduction), would God decide on a "complete reboot" (Flood 2.0) or start luring us with new, even more dazzling attractions? Is a rebellion against the Director possible?
  Then Oleg Rybachenko went and knocked out the Turkish Sultan with a kick from his bare heel and made a logical point.
  The Great Patriotic War reads very much like a Hollywood script by a talented director. The course of events is such: Moscow and Stalingrad are almost taken, and the march all the way to Berlin, and the evil represented by Hitler is so hypertrophied that one would be forgiven for thinking such villains never existed in real life. And even Stalin's bloodiest executioners were ennobled and became heroes during the Great Patriotic War.
  You've touched on a very sensitive topic: the story of WWII is truly structured according to all the canons of an epic drama, where the stakes are extremely high, and the ending seems like an impossible miracle. From the perspective of the "Space Director," the script is perfect:
  The point of absolute despair: The enemy is at the gates of Moscow, Stalingrad is ablaze, and it seems the "darkness" is about to triumph. In Hollywood, they call it the "all is lost moment." It is at this moment that the hero must be reborn.
  Archetypal Evil: Hitler and Nazism are depicted as absolute antagonists in this "scenario." His villainy is so total (concentration camps, the Ost plan) that it leaves no room for compromise. Against such evil, any "neighboring" tyrant begins to appear as a "lesser evil" or even a defender of civilization.
  Redemption Arc: Stalin's marshals and Chekists, who just yesterday were signing execution lists for their own people, are transformed in this plot into saviors of humanity. The war "washed away" their past sins in the eyes of history, turning executioners into heroic liberators. It's a classic trope: a character with a dark past accomplishes a great feat.
  Catharsis in Berlin: The finale in the enemy's lair, the banner over the Reichstag - this is the perfect final shot that puts a bold end to the struggle between Good and Evil (even if it is Good with very fists and blood on its hands).
  If God is a director, then the years 1941-1945 were his highest-grossing and bloodiest blockbusters. The tragedy of millions became the fuel for this grandiose plot.
  But here's the question: if all of this is a "script" for someone's entertainment or "lesson," then don't you think the price of that lesson is prohibitive? And isn't the current escalation of passions around new conflicts an attempt by the same "Director" to launch a sequel because the old film has already begun to fade?
  Do you think humanity will ever be able to escape this film studio and begin living a boring but peaceful life, or are we doomed to forever play "heroes and villains" for the Almighty's amusement? Is a world without heroes salvation or boredom?
  Oleg and Margarita were already counting the treasures in the captured capital of the Ottoman Empire. Their bare, chiseled feet slapped the marble tiles, tossing gold coins.
  The First World War is not at all like the Second World War, and the war between Russia and Ukraine is not at all similar, except that Russian troops were also at the gates of Kyiv.
  You're right, World War I and the current conflict in Ukraine are entirely different scenarios, lacking the Hollywood elegance of 1945. If WWII was a heroic epic, then these wars are grim naturalism and absurdity.
  Here are the key differences from the "ideal scenario":
  1. World War I: The "Collective Madness" Scenario
  There was no "absolute villain." All sides were roughly equally monarchical, imperial, and greedy.
  Dead End: Instead of rapid breakthroughs, there are years in rotten trenches just to advance a hundred meters. This isn't cinema, it's endless arthouse about meaninglessness.
  A cathartic ending: The war ended not with the capture of the capital, but with the internal collapse of the empires. The viewer (or God) was left perplexed: why did 20 million die if, 20 years later, everything began anew?
  2. The Russia-Ukraine Conflict: The "Reality Crisis" Scenario
  Unlike WWII, where the front was clear and the goals were understandable (survive or destroy), here everything is shaky:
  Breaking the mold: In 1941, the enemy was a stranger, speaking a different language. Here, the conflict is between incredibly similar cultures, making it more like the biblical drama of Cain and Abel than a "war of the worlds."
  Information chaos: In WWII, there was only one truth: the Soviet Information Bureau versus the truth of Goebbels. Now there are millions of cameras, streams, and fakes. This is no longer a movie, but an interactive show where the viewer chooses what to believe.
  The absence of "Berlin": In the nuclear age, the "triumphant capture of the capital and the raising of the flag over the Reichstag" scenario is almost impossible, as it leads to the end of all humanity. The scenario is stuck in a stalemate reminiscent of World War I.
  3. The role of the "Director"
  If the Great Patriotic War was "high art" for the Almighty, then current events resemble an experimental production, where actors improvise under conditions of complete uncertainty.
  Lukashenko and Putin are trying to play by the 1945 template (parades, rhetoric of "fighting Nazism"), but the scenery and technology of the 21st century make this game false.
  It seems that "The Director" has changed the genre from an epic action film to a psychological thriller with elements of horror, where there are no clear heroes, but only the endless tragedy of the "little man."
  Why do you think humanity so persistently tries to put the mask of 1945 on modern conflicts? Is it simply a lack of new ideas or a fear of admitting that the old rules of "just war" no longer work? Is nostalgia for "clear evil" a symptom of societal malaise?
  Oleg remarked with a very philosophical air, standing on his hands and spinning his bare, childish legs in the air:
  - Yeah, who would compare it to anything? In some ways, it's even worse than the Great Patriotic War, and most importantly, this conflict against Ukraine has lasted longer.
  Margarita noted with a sigh:
  "Yes, that's true! And every day there are battles, attacks, bloodshed. Even if the war with Sweden lasted almost twenty-one years under Peter the Great, blood wasn't shed even every day. And what was the battle like back then?" The eternal girl stamped her bare, graceful, childish feet. "Preparation, gathering of troops, marching, marching. A battle in a single day and in roughly the same place. And now the front lines are being formed. And there's a great, protracted war going on, with no end in sight."
  Oleg nodded and answered:
  - Yes, that's true! Well, it's time to end it! But then one campaign and Istanbul was taken. And new lands, new riches!
  Margarita smacked her lips and noted:
  - That's true! But that's not enough! We need to conquer new Turkish lands. What do you think Peter the Great will do?
  The warrior boy noted:
  - In real history, Peter Romanov did not seize all of Sweden, although he could have done so.
  The warrior girl noted:
  "He couldn't! In that case, he would have had to fight other European countries. Especially the rising Austrian Empire and the sea-lord Britain. So, after more than twenty years of war, Peter agreed not to take Finland, but to formalize his territorial acquisitions as purchases, for a considerable sum at the time. Plus, he was given annual grain deliveries."
  But if not for this, Peter would likely have preferred to incorporate all of Sweden into the Russian Empire. This is supported by the fact that, having barely finished the war with Sweden, Peter launched a campaign to conquer Iran and Azerbaijan.
  Oleg nodded with a frown:
  - The ambitions of the Russian tsars were always great!
  And the children sang in chorus:
  The Russian warrior is not afraid of death,
  We are not afraid of death on the battlefield,
  He will fight with the enemy for Holy Rus',
  And even dying he will win!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Новые книги авторов СИ, вышедшие из печати:
О.Болдырева "Крадуш. Чужие души" М.Николаев "Вторжение на Землю"

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