Constructor of Worlds
Volume 1
Ibratjon Xatamovich Aliyev
Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Vavilova
Editor Boxodir Xoshimovich Karimov
Editor Farruh Murodjonovich Sharofutdinov
Editor Gulnoza Muxtarovna Sobirova
Economic Manager Farruh Murodjonovich Sharofutdinov
Illustrator Ibratjon Xatamovich Aliyev
Illustrator Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Vavilova
Cover design Ibratjon Xatamovich Aliyev
Cover design Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Vavilova
Technical Editor Svetlana Fyodorovna Raxmanova
Proofreader Gulnoza Muxtarovna Sobirova
Proofreader Svetlana Fyodorovna Raxmanova
© Ibratjon Xatamovich Aliyev, 2023
© Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Vavilova, 2023
ISBN 978-5-0059-5458-9 (т. 1)
ISBN 978-5-0059-5459-6
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
CONSTRUCTOR OF WORLDS
PROLOGUE
Neither a city, nor a state, nor a planet, nor a star, nor a star system, and not even a galaxy! I have created a galaxy cluster! A huge part of the entire cosmos! No living being has ever made such a large-scale breakthrough that I have made! And you have no idea how real it is
Mr. Abdullah
September 2009.
Mr. Alexander Vasilyevich Belov was standing on the deck of his ship «Octopus». His gaze was directed towards the vast expanses of the Indian Ocean. Belov himself was a wealthy man and already at the age of 37 was able to earn a fortune. He was of medium height, with black hair and a small beard. His eyes reflected all his thirst for power, although he treated his employees well, of whom he had quite a few, but he really liked to feel like a ruler.
From a young age, Alexander Vasilyevich was looking for methods to implement his plans and he managed to open several of his oil plants. Although he was not known, but he was not a small-scale supplier. But now he was interested in something more. He wanted to create his own spaceport and draw almost inexhaustible resources directly from the cosmic expanses!
It was already evening, a great time for observations, and Alexander Vasilyevich was peering into the sky. He was holding a glass of port wine in his hands, leaning on the railing of the veranda of the captains bridge. Suddenly his phone rang, it was his scientific adviser, a young researcher Leonid Rodionovich Gasparov.
Im listening to you.
Hello Alexander Vasilyevich, this is Leonid Gasparov. I wanted to inform you that the preparation of the second block of the observatory is almost ready.
Fine, one more step on the way to my goal
You mean our goal?
Exactly, because your project of the newest cosmodrome with these things of yours gave me such grandiose opportunities.
But this is being done for the purpose of exploring outer space and expanding the capabilities of all mankind, because this is the goal we indicated in the documents, if you remember.
Youre a fool, Leonid! being intoxicated, the tycoon shouted. I needed this to take over this world! Space is a gold mine, and I will become the only billionaire on a cosmic scale! And even now, knowing my real purpose, you wont be able to do anything, because the island is guarded by my people. I didnt need anything more than blueprints.
It cant be! You deceived me!
Of course! You dont have long to live! Ha-ha-ha! The billionaire laughed menacingly.
Just as he was about to call the guards, the «Octopus» shuddered, as if pierced by an electric current. Its entire surface trembled, as the human body trembles under the action of an electric discharge. The waves raged and lightning bolts struck the ship terrifyingly.
Only now did this man realize what he was worth. But as if this was not enough, something huge appeared from under the waves, and it began to rise. With fear in his eyes, unable to run, Alexander Vasilyevich stood still, on both sides he was engulfed by flames that had already made their way into the captains cabin. A huge monster rose up in front of him right from the depths of the ocean! It was a giant dragon with 5 heads, he spread his giant wings from behind, and tons of water descended over his body like jets. Glowing red eyes stared menacingly in the direction of the ship. When the monster rose to the level of its chest, it was at least 300 meters high!
With his huge paw, he swung at the ship and in an instant tore the Octopus apart, the owner of the ship flew out from such a blow and scrambled trying to stay afloat! A huge mass was drowning in the ocean, creating a whirlpool, and the monster watched this picture without losing a single moment of this agony. The fire had already been extinguished. Very close by was a torn-up stern, where water was pouring in with a roar, then guns and safety bulkheads; crowds of black ghosts were rushing around parts of the upper deck. The unfortunate ones were climbing the shrouds, clinging to the masts, floundering in the water.
It was a human anthill suddenly flooded with water! The unfortunate ship began to sink rapidly. Here the marts appeared, plastered with victims, yards bent by bulking people, and, finally, the top of the main mast. The dark mass was covered under the water with all its crew of the dead, overwhelmed by a terrible whirlpool. And the monster, this terrible judge who caused a thunderstorm, a real archangel of revenge, did not take his eyes off the sinking ship
At that moment, a giant huge bird appeared in the sky, there was a feeling that this bird was in the sky itself, it occupied a quarter of the entire sky. Gasparov, who was standing on the upper veranda, froze in place from what he saw. Belov, who was thrown away from the whirlpool, also saw this. But before he could say a word, a bright bird burst into flames, and such a bright flash blinded the greedy billionaire.
A bird that appeared in the sky
Gasparov was abruptly thrown by the wind from such a flash, inside the observatory, and he saw with his own eyes how the metal floor where the light hit just melted! When Gasparov got up, large clouds of smoke were visible in the distance, the last thing left of the «Octopus». And the huge bird mysteriously disappeared, just as the monster disappeared.
Chapter one. Beginning
I dont think that the same excitement can pass through the human heart that an inventor feels when watching how successfully the creation of the brain works.
Nikola Tesla
It was 1965. Twenty years have passed since the Great Patriotic War, and the consequences still remain in the hearts of good people.
The village family just had their first son. He was healthy and very noisy, crying all the time, and his skin was pink like a pig. The mother doted on the child and not an hour passed that she did not take him in her arms and did not rock him. My father just smiled at his wifes energy and the fire in her eyes.
His father, Alexander Fedorovich, worked as a local policeman, after the war he immediately moved here to the Tver region in order to forget the native places where his dead brothers and mother lived. Mother, Elena Nikolaevna, was born and raised here. She received a secondary education and started working in a local grocery store.
Their house was neither old nor new. A firm mans hand repaired a leaky roof, dug a vegetable garden and painted a fence with whitewash. An elegant female hand cleaned, cooked, took care of plants in the garden and chickens in the chicken coop.
Their house was a small hut. It was brick, and the roof was wooden, and sometimes rotted. The yard was large and was always being prepared for a vegetable garden, it was surrounded by a wooden fence. There was also an old bathhouse, completely blackened from the inside, and the ceiling is so low that if you climb on the canopy, you need to bend in the back and neck. There were two sheds in front of the bathhouse, chickens lived in one, and Alexander Fedorovich kept tools in the second, so there was a workbench nearby. The stump in the middle of it all stood out even more vividly, firewood was always neatly stacked next to it and sometimes a chicken was slaughtered.
Years passed, their boy grew up. Called Vadim. The boy is already eight years old, and looks like an adult with serious eyes. Alexander Fedorovich always saw in his son an excellent employee and brought him up accordingly. Elena Nikolaevna spoiled the boy and allowed him to do almost anything. Parents quarreled on this topic more than once, but they quickly ended, because the parents loved each other madly, and the hostess of the house was pregnant again.
Vadim wanted a brother to play with and fight with the neighborhood boys. Elena Nikolaevna wanted a daughter, and Alexander Fedorovich also wanted a son.
Vadim liked to play with the boys on the street and always came late and with bruises. Sometimes I went fishing with them or with my father. The boy was strong in health and body and already helped around the house. He carried barrels of water home, dug in the garden and climbed on the roof to fix a leaky roof.
«Thats not how you hold an axe,» my father once said when they were chopping wood together in the yard of the house.
And how? Vadim asked, looking at the axe.
Alexander Fedorovich wiggled his mustache and roughly turned the axe point down.
Thats it, the father replied with a sneer, «chop it up.
Vadim started chopping firewood. At first, it was difficult for the boy to do this. Iron got stuck in the wood, and splinters flew in spite of the face and eyes. Alexander Fedorovich took out another axe and began chopping wood together with his son. An adult man did it much better and faster. After a few minutes, Alexander Fedorovichs pile of firewood became larger than Vadims.
«Remember, son,» he said later at home over a plate of borscht, his black moustache stained with red broth. the axe should be held firmly, and the blows should be smooth and strong so that the wood gives in better.
Vadim grew up from childhood as a smart boy
My father was often not at home, and my mother stayed late for a part-time job in a store, then it was tight with money. Alexander Fedorovich reproached his wife for this, because she is in a position, and to work harder than he himself at work. Elena Nikolaevna was a fragile woman, but strong in spirit, and also too stubborn to put her own good in priority.
«Remember, son,» he said later at home over a plate of borscht, his black moustache stained with red broth. the axe should be held firmly, and the blows should be smooth and strong so that the wood gives in better.
My father was often not at home, and my mother stayed late for a part-time job in a store, then it was tight with money. Alexander Fedorovich reproached his wife for this, because she is in a position, and to work harder than he himself at work. Elena Nikolaevna was a fragile woman, but strong in spirit, and also too stubborn to put her own good in priority.
After that, Alexander Fedorovich showed Vadim how to slaughter chickens. To do this, he took out an axe and sharpened it properly. The boy by this time was incomprehensibly holding a chicken in his hands.
Are we going to chop wood? he asked then.
No, something else,» he shook his head and took the bird by the neck.
The chicken let out a hoarse sigh and tried to escape by flapping its wings.
Im holding a chicken, and you hit her in the neck with the sharp part of an axe. said Alexander Fedorovich, opening a view of the chickens thin neck.
«Shes going to die,» Vadim said in surprise, clutching a heavy axe to his chest.
Yes, but it will serve us well, think about it this way, the father raised his eyebrows, shrugging his shoulders. Well!
Vadim hesitantly raised the axe and hit the chicken in the neck. Her blood immediately flowed down the stump, but the bird itself had not died yet, but was making death cries.
Well, who cuts like that! the man roared and the boy shuddered from this cry and hit much harder.
The chicken died, and its head lay apart from the body and vomited blood.
Then it was a cold autumn day, and Elena Nikolaevna sent her son to the first grade to study. Vadim didnt like this business, but he received only good grades in Russian. His father flogged him for bad ones, and his mother tried to somehow mitigate the punishment.
Months passed, and Elena Nikolaevnas stomach swelled even more. She was already sitting only at home, and Alexander Fedorovich worked for two. One day, coming home, he gave Vadim a red, good ball. The boy immediately went to play with friends near the house. Then a dacha of some rich man was being built nearby and trucks very often drove along the roads of the village. They raised whole clouds of smoke that smelled terrible, and their engine roared very loudly in the street.
Vadim was playing with friends right by the road, on a patch of land. There was no grass growing there, only bare earth was here. The boys thought it was a great place to play and started kicking the ball very far away. Alexander Fedorovich then sat on a bench near the house to watch his son from afar, he rejoiced at his victories and was sad from failures. And so the red ball rolled out onto the road, Vadim ran after him, and a truck with bricks was passing on this road. The father immediately exploded from the spot.
Vadim! Vadim, my mother! My father was shouting, he was angry and panicked. As a man at war, he gathered himself and ran to his child, who did not hear his screams and hoped that he would have time to take the ball from the ground.
The driver clearly did not see where he was going and did not pay attention to the people who were crawling like bugs under his wheels. Alexander Fedorovich pushed Vadim hard in the chest, and the frightened boy looked at his father, who was angry. The car hit him, running over a massive wheel. Blood and open fractures were visible. Vadims friends fell silent, and someone even screamed and cried.
Vadim did not cry or scream, he was in shock. The driver of the car got out and cursed loudly, Elena Nikolaevna ran out of the house.
Sasha! Sasha! she kept saying, throwing herself under the wheels of the truck. She grabbed the driver by the breasts and started screaming and fell from powerlessness.
She became ill and went into labor. The driver swore again and ran to the doctor immediately. Vadim was still in the same shock, he dropped the ball and fell to his knees next to his mother. She kept repeating her husbands name as if she had a fever.
Vadim did not remember this day very well, everything was like in a fog. The fate of the driver did not bother him, just like the birth of his sister. He remembers his fathers funeral very well. A wooden coffin, a priest, a cold fathers body and a pale face. Elena Nikolaevna sobbed loudly and buried her nose in her mothers shoulder. Tears were also streaming down her wrinkled cheeks. Many friends of Alexander Fedorovich came to this funeral, as if the weather was also mourning Vadims father, sending heavy raindrops and cold wind on peoples heads. Then they said goodbye to his corpse and sent him on his way. Buried, left lush bouquets and left a cross.
The wake began. The closest people of the deceased gathered for lunch to Elena Nikolaevna, who rushed around the house and managed to set the table for the guests and calm her daughter. On the table with a white tablecloth were pancakes, rice with raisins, porridge and borscht, a plate of bread and tea
After all this, the mother could not see her son next to her. She blamed him for all her sorrows, even her grandmother could not bring her to reason and soon died of the flu herself. Elena Nikolaevna could no longer feed her children alone on the salary of a saleswoman. There was not enough time for the garden, nor for the children, nor for myself. Vadim and his sister Anya did not go hungry, but their food on the table became noticeably poorer in its variety.