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Lord from planet earth trilogy read. Sergey Lukyanenko "Lord from planet Earth"

"The game is worth a princess"
(instead of preface)

How can an ordinary acquaintance in the park end when a district superman defends a girl in a brutal fight? A wedding, a duel, a battle in space, a galactic war?

Both that, and another, and the third with the fourth together. Because it is from this meeting that the fantastic trilogy novel by Sergei Lukyanenko “Lord from Planet Earth” begins.

If the girl turns out to be a princess of a distant stellar empire, then everything else will follow: blasters and starships, web mines and temples of the Forerunner Sowers. And atomic swords, whose blades are sharpened by waves of flame - swords are sharper than the scythe of Death and Occam's razor.

This is life - when you immediately burst into an unfamiliar world. When you turn it upside down to get your way. When you give all your best in the last fight, having done everything possible, impossible - and won!

How can it not be captivating adventure in which a child's toy - a spring gun - becomes a weapon that changes the fate of the planets. Where the long-standing desire to replay, correct the mistake made is fulfilled, easily growing into reality from the multi-colored mirage of computer games ...

Religious fanatics, armed to the teeth, and vampires, not hiding their fangs. Strange friends and extraordinary enemies, duels in orbit and tricks over time. Unexpected meetings and inevitable partings are all ahead of the hero, who decided to choose one of all the women of the Universe - the Princess.

But it is not enough, it turns out, only to decide. It is not enough even to do the unattainable, one must also confirm one's right to a perfect deed. Make yourself and everyone believe in him.

You can plunge headlong into adventures and wanderings, testing yourself for strength with every minute dangers. But this is not an option either. The flow of events that do not increase in scale can become monotonous. And if there is no movement to more and more difficult games, to an increase in rates - the plot fades. The advice of the Black Queen to Alice remains in force: "...here, you know, you have to run as fast as you can just to stay in the same place."

And where to run if everyone around you recognized the almighty Prince in you, and even yourself - no, without taking greatness seriously - you are already setting a moral bill for your native planet: "... if you hate, then a whole civilization."

The stars above our heads and the moral law within us are what remains to be challenged. Both are just names from an endless list of self-names of the Universe. And the result of the duel with them is the same. Different - only ways. If the ability to hate has supplanted the ability to love, then no matter how you call the Force that has chosen you as its toy, you yourself stand at its origins.

Which path did the Prince and Princess, the Earth and the stars take? Who won the duel?

But there will still be more questions.

princess worth dying

In memory of Vitaly Ivanovich Bugrov ...

Part one
Lord

1. Betrothal

- Can I fall in love with you?

I didn't hear the question right away.

Busy with the very difficult attempt to rise from the ground without leaning on my bloody fists, I almost forgot about the girl. This often happens in very violent fights - by the end of them, the reason for the quarrel has time to be forgotten.

- Can I fall in love with you?

I finally managed to get up. My hands hurt the most, which is good. It turns out that I blocked most of the blows. If not for a direct to the face in the last seconds, the victory would have been perfect. And bloodless - for me, of course ...

- Can I fall in love with you?

The girl's voice was insistent and calm. As if not her, desperately and clumsily fighting back, were recently dragged to the bench by three hefty bastards. It was as if there had never been a short, merciless fight, by the end of which I crossed an invisible line for the first time - I began to beat to defeat. To death. Because otherwise they could kill me.

I seemed to see myself from the side. Tall, muscular, in a torn shirt, with a face covered in blood. They had brass knuckles, didn't they? Amateur Superman standing unsteadily over three defeated enemies next to a rescued girl. Is it possible to fall in love with this?

And looked at the girl.

Lord, why did they get attached to her? Quite a youngster, thirteen or fourteen years old. Beautiful indeed...

Very beautiful.

Soft brown hair that falls freely over thin shoulders. Slender legs, long, but without adolescent disproportion. Figurine, correct to perfection, to classic proportions Greek sculptures. Large dark blue eyes on the alarming and from this even more beautiful face. So, after all, she was frightened ... Only her voice remained strangely calm.

I watched, unable to tear my eyes away. She was dressed surprisingly: in short, tight-fitting shorts, a T-shirt-top made of glossy crimson fabric, the same cherry sneakers, pale pink socks rolled up on her ankles. A golden chain wrapped around her thin neck twice, so massive that the thought flashed through my mind - a fake. And suddenly I realized that this is not a fake. There was nothing fake on the girl. The chain is gold, worth a lot of money.

God, how had she not been attacked before?

- Are you in a lot of pain? the girl asked quietly.

I shook my head. It hurts, sure, but you don't have to think about it. You need to get home quickly. And do not wander at night in the most abandoned city park, which is full of youths stoned with marijuana and drunk drunks.

“Now everything will pass,” the girl said confidently. And she held out her hand to me.

Warm, tender fingers touched my face. She didn't seem to see the dried, sticky blood. Or - not afraid to touch her.

It does not hurt anymore.

A cold wind hit me. Consciousness gained clarity. I tensed, ready to throw myself into the fray again. Ready to die because of a strange girl. Ready to kill anyone who dares to offend her.

And the pain disappeared.

“I am very glad,” the girl continued. "You're beautiful, though it doesn't matter. You are strong, but that's not the most important thing. You are brave.

For a second she was silent. Her fingers slid over my face, and somewhere in the depths a slight chill was born. It's strange, because the palm is so warm ...

- And most importantly - you can fall in love.

I nodded. Now it's quite conscious. I want you to fall in love with me, weird girl.

Because I already love you.

Will you wait until I grow up?

She smiled and her huge blue eyes lit up. The girl asked, already knowing the answer. As if performing a boring but obligatory ritual.

"Then give me your hand."

Something heavy and small fell into my palm. The fingers tightened on their own, hiding the unexpected gift.

“You should wear it until you change your mind.” Until you get tired of waiting. And I have to go.

The girl stepped back. Into the darkness, into the tangle of trees, into the unknown.

“Wait…” I leaned towards her. - I spend.

And again a smile - laughing eyes on the face of the young goddess.

- I'm being escorted. It's too far a way... for you. I'm glad we got engaged. Goodbye.

An incomprehensible numbness fell over me. I saw her go, and every cell of the body, every muscle, every nerve trailed after her. We must go after her, we must take the girl home ...

But I couldn't move. I just looked at her. And then he opened his hand. And saw a ring of heavy yellow metal.

...Tonight we hung out at Krol's house. What place he occupies in our office is understandable, I think, by his nickname. Lop-eared, with eternally red watery eyes, fussy about business. But with parents-geologists, who always disappear on business trips, and quite a decent Japanese video recorder.

I came to the party already warmed up. The state was strange - usually I either do not drink at all, or I bring myself to a complete buzz. Now I don't want to drink at all.

It was dark in Krol's room, the VCR was on, and seven or eight people were sitting on the wide, shabby bed. Someone called loudly:

- Serge, land!

- Hey, place Serge ...

I waved my hand languidly, both saying hello and explaining that I wasn't going to sit down. He stood for a minute, leaning against the door frame, looking at the screen, where another Nightmare on Elm Street was playing. The indestructible Freddy Krueger flailed the skinny bespectacled guy with his razor fingers. Blood gushed out like a fountain. The bespectacled man with a doomed look, as if realizing the futility of his undertaking, fired at Freddie from two huge revolvers. Shreds of striped shirt and rotten meat shot out of the Kruger in spectacular geysers.

I turned around and walked towards the bathroom. The enthusiastic voice of the gundos translator followed me: “And now, guys, I’ll take care of you for real ...”

In the bathroom, an unfamiliar couple was preparing for love. The girl had already undressed, the guy was pulling off his trousers. They stared at me so dazedly that I sobered up a bit. It even dawned on what was the matter - the door was locked on a rather massive latch. I did not calculate the effort, what can you do.

"I'm fast," I explained, turning on the cold water. I feel the need to wash...

An icy stream whipped on the back of the head, flowed down the collar. I shook my head, moaning in pleasure. So what else do I need? Cigarette...

The girl stood quietly, covering herself with a towel. The guy slowly turned purple with anger. Twisting my head under the stream of water, I watched him out of the corner of my eye and tried to predict the further reaction. If he knows me, he will wait a minute, adjust the latch on the door and calmly ...

So, it means he doesn't know. I flinched away from the blow. The boy slammed the edge of his hand against the cast-iron edge of the tub and howled. Not letting him come to his senses, I hit him in the shoulder. Slightly, just turning into a comfortable position ... And he slammed his foot into the stomach - this time stronger. The guy bent over and sat on the floor.

“If you climb more, I’ll hit lower,” I said admonishingly. - You will be unemployable.

I looked for a towel, but I didn't find it. Smiled at the girl

- I'd like to dry off.

She quickly held out a towel, which she held in front of her like a screen. I carefully took the terrycloth by the corners and, continuing to curtain the girl, blotted my face, nodded and went out into the corridor.

The search for a cigarette led to the kitchen. If my goal was to inject nicotine into the lungs, this visit would have been sufficient. Despite open window and a small number of people - three guys and a kissing couple - the air seemed to be an infusion of oxygen on tobacco smoke.

Sitting on the windowsill next to the Count and Dos, I held out my hand without looking. The Count put in a brand new, just opened pack: a soft yellow wrapper with a camel grazing against the backdrop of the pyramids. Obviously US, not licensed.

I picked up the Camelyn and slipped the pack into my pocket:

- You give me a gift, okay?

The Count grimaced, but did not protest. He brought a lighter, also branded, this time prudently without letting go.

Taking a puff, I smiled blissfully and relaxed back. Right through the open window.

The girl squealed without stopping kissing. I leaned over the ledge, froze, looking at Alma-Ata at night from the height of the ninth floor. Smooth, like a ruler drawn, streets marked with a dotted line of lanterns. Spots of colored light in the squares. Cars crawling through the streets that once bore the names of Pasteur and Gorky, and now - someone hard to remember. A high-rise hotel shrouded in soft light with a “crown” on the roof burning with red lights.

With my feet, I firmly caught on the cast-iron ribs of the battery. Dos patted me on the stomach: stop fooling around, you will go down ...

I straightened up, sitting down on the windowsill again. The Count silently nodded to the table, where a half bottle of vodka was missing, surrounded by piles and thick slices of sausage. Her two empty sisters lay under the table. I shook my head. No I do not want to. I don't know why, but it doesn't work...

The door slammed in the hallway. A minute later, filled with the rustle of shoes being taken off and a quiet conversation, Romik entered the kitchen. Behind him is an unknown girl.

I got dizzy. I suddenly felt sober. Blue eyes from under chestnut bangs, a slim figure, denim shorts. The girl was beautiful. And it seemed painfully familiar.

I watched Romik and his girlfriend approach us. And in the depths of my soul, an insinuating whisper of reason sounded: “Calm down. Come to your senses, Sergei. Five years have passed. Almost five ... You can fall in love at seventeen, but it's stupid to remember childhood love at twenty-two. She just looks like it."

Very similar.

I shook Romkin's hand. And why does he always have wet hands? The Count unceremoniously asked:

Are you with a new girlfriend?

Romik squinted at the girl and said evasively:

- As you see.

“I’m not your girlfriend yet,” the girl said, looking at us. - Will you introduce me?

- Meet Ada. From the Faculty of Biology…” Romik began.

“The men are introduced first,” Ada said with disgust. She looked at me appraisingly. So study the mannequin in the window.

I nudged Dos with my shoulder and took Ada's hand. Pulled towards:

- Sit down.

She sat down silently.

My name is Serge. You will be with me?

Ada shrugged. She looked at Romik. He smiled wryly.

"Don't worry, he'll let you," I explained. “I gave him my girl last week, so he owes him a favor. Right, Romik?

"Serge, you've become shy," Romik said quietly.

“Get out,” I ordered.

Romik took a full pile from the table. He drank in one gulp. He gave me a hateful look. And left.

He knew me.

I closed my eyes, took a puff, swallowing the sweetish smoke, and heard the voice of the Count:

– Talk to him, Serge?

I shook my head.

He's within his rights, Count. And I got it right. I'll figure it out myself.

The cigarette has smoldered almost to the filter. With each puff, the tobacco seemed stronger.

"I don't like that you smoke," Ada said softly.

I nodded, pulling a pack out of my pocket. He tossed it over his shoulder, into the dark hole in the window, and spat a cigarette butt on the floor. The Count looked out the window sadly. He said to no one:

- I took it in foreign exchange ...

“Follow me,” I reassured him. “Count, I need an empty room.

The Count nodded. Dos picked it up and pulled it from the kitchen. The couple and the third boy had already fled earlier.

- And what does it mean? – moving away from me, asked Ada.

I looked at her eagerly. Looks like. But that girl is now eighteen years old. Ada is older.

- Can I fall in love with you? – highlighting each word, I asked.

Ada shrugged.

- That's your business. Take a chance…

…And something seemed to split. Similar features are gone. The charm is gone. Nearby sat an ordinary twenty-year-old girl, moderately beautiful, moderately impudent. With trendy dyed hair. Sexy shorts made from old jeans.

That girl would have answered differently. I don’t know how, but not so deliberately carelessly, with the look of a fatal woman who has gone through fire, water and copper pipes.

- Do you let me drink? I asked rudely and reached for the bottle. Ada nodded. I swallowed vodka straight from the bottle, not feeling the burning flame on my lips.

"Leave it," Ada begged.

I handed her the bottle with the bottom sloshing around. Inhaled deeply. Mouth, throat - everything seemed to catch fire, filled with a burning weight. A clear, warning thought flashed through my mind: "I'll pass out in half an hour."

I looked at Ada. She finished her vodka in exactly the same way - from the neck. And nothing, she sat quietly, laying her foot behind her. I suddenly noticed that the legs were covered with sparse hairs. Slightly, and even diligently discolored, but ...

“What could be scarier than hairy female legs? Hairy female chest.

We can deal with breasts.

– Have you heard about me? I asked, feeling that my tongue obeyed with some difficulty.

Ada nodded.

- Yes. You are Sergey-Serge. You hold the whole district, but you could hold the city. Karateka. Hand-to-hand combat instructor in a sports club.

- What else? I demanded.

– Fought somewhere in the south with the separatists. He was wounded in the Caspian landing. Studied in honey, dropped out. Now you are recovering.

Wow fame...

“More,” I almost shouted.

Ada was silent.

You have never confessed your love to anyone. Even those with whom he slept. And there were many. They say that five years ago, still under the Union, you saved a girl from bandits and fell in love with her. She gave you a ring that you've been wearing ever since. This is it?

I raised my right hand, unbearably heavy and clumsy. There was a dull yellow ring on her ring finger. A tiny diamond pressed into the gold glowed like a pale spark.

"He doesn't like it," I said sadly. A fluctuating fog covered his head, everything swam before his eyes. Do you see how it faded? I do shit, I act like a pig...

Bringing my face closer to Ada, I whispered:

You look like her, okay? Outside…

Ada nodded in understanding.

- I understood. You haven't beaten girls from anyone. They stick to you.

“You know everything about me,” I said thoughtfully. "Have you been after me for a long time?" I won't fall in love with you...

- I like strong men. She shook her bangs. Those who are stronger than me.

- Who suppresses your will ... Who wants to obey. I feel sorry for you, Adka, - I whispered in delirium. The room is gone. There was only a dim light, sticking in cigarette smoke, and a girl with predatory eyes. - Do you want me to take you? Okay, I'll take it.

- Right here? she asked ironically.

I hooked my fingers on the belt on the shorts, pulled:

- Take it off!

She jumped off the windowsill. She looked at me for a second - it seemed that Ada would now punch me in the face and leave ... And I would rush after me, choking on excuses, in a drunken belief that I had found her, the girl from a childhood dream, from my first love ...

Ada undid the button on her shorts, ripped open the zipper with a bang. She trampled on shorts, remaining in lace white panties.

2. Call

I woke up at noon. His head was pounding with pain. His mouth was dry, his lips covered with dry white muck.

And I was also incredibly ashamed. For the beaten guy in the bathroom. For foppishness with cigarettes. For the disgraced Romka.

For blue-eyed handsome with short name Ada.

I looked at the ring - it seemed more gray than yellow. The diamond looked like glass.

“I’m a bastard,” I whispered, getting up from the crumpled sheet. - The bastard who holds the district. A bastard who teaches brats how to fight and makes money out of it.

On the way to the bathroom, I turned on the tape recorder, and the apartment was filled with a roar electronic music. Old Jean-Michel Jar tried his best.

Cold shower. Then - hot: tight jets of boiling water, beating from a flexible hose. And again - ice water under extreme pressure.

I'm cold and burned. He groaned in pleasure, then squealed in pain. Then, without drying himself, he got out of the bath, padded into the kitchen, put the kettle on to warm up. The apartment was empty - the parents had long gone to work. My good parents, proud of a good son.

"I'm a bastard," I repeated. But it's so hard to wait for you. So long... I really love you. Even though I don't know anything, not even the name.

Having poured two spoons of instant coffee into boiling water, I sat down at the table with a cup. Opened a pack of biscuits. I didn't want to eat, on the contrary, I felt nauseous. But I knew from experience that after eating it would be easier.

As I sipped my coffee, I stole a glance at the ring. The metal came to life, filled with pure amber yellowness. A transparent crystal, which I used to consider a diamond, began to shine.

Sometimes it seemed to me that it was the ring that did not allow me to forget an old meeting in the park. It was a strange ring - changing depending on my mood. Now, after mental repentance, it has become a normal, beautiful golden ring. And the stone gleamed even brighter than usual.

Much brighter.

I admired the play of light on a grain of carbon, which was turned from black coal into a sparkling diamond by monstrous pressure and heat.

If the ring was a random gift to an unfamiliar savior, then the strange girl was the daughter of a millionaire. It is unlikely that I will see her again. I'm sure I'll never meet anyone like it.

Still, it's great that she was. Laughing blue eyes. Soft fingers that wash away the pain. And the persistent question: “Can I fall in love with you?”

“Yes,” I said affectionately, looking at the ring. - Yes.

Are you still waiting?

Will you come if I ask?

I was thrown from my chair. No, I jumped off myself. I no longer remembered. Didn't talk to myself.

In the echoing silence, especially noticeable after the cassette had finished playing, I heard her voice. And not at all the same as in dreams - calm and childishly carefree. His voice trembled, as if in fear or pain. He was insecure and quiet. At the same time, he became stronger and more serious. The girl has grown up.

And she remembered me!

- Are not you afraid? This is a very long way.

- I'm not afraid.

Time is running out and we must hurry. Think again - you won't regret it? I call you to another world, to another planet.

I guess I've always thought about it. Not even a shadow of surprise flickered in my soul. There was no fear either. Pity this world? Drunken faces of the Count and Dos? Two years of the army, in special forces units? Evening conversations of parents - how beautiful our country was before the collapse, under Lena ... Weekly scuffle on invisible borders that divide the city into teenage districts?

- I will come. I won't regret it.

Pause. Silence, white and crisp, like a sterile medical gown. Second pause.

“Tell me, did you really…remember me?”

- Yes ... - I was confused.

- I'm in trouble. Big trouble. You - last chance for many thousands of... people. It happened. ancient custom became a barrier to evil.

Current page: 1 (total book has 32 pages) [available reading excerpt: 18 pages]

Abstract

How can an ordinary acquaintance in the park end when a district superman defends a girl in a brutal fight? A wedding, a duel, a battle in space, a galactic war? if the girl turns out to be a princess of a distant stellar empire, then everything else will follow - blasters and starships, web mines and Temples of Forerunner Sowers. And atomic swords, whose blades are sharpened by waves of flame - swords are sharper than the scythe of Death and Occam's razor.

And how can an adventure not captivate, where a long-standing desire to replay, correct a mistake is fulfilled, easily growing into reality from a multi-colored mirage of computer games.

Religious fanatics, armed to the teeth, and vampires, not hiding their fangs. Strange friends and unusual enemies, duels in orbit and tricks with time - everything is ahead of the hero, who decided to choose one of all the women in the galaxy - the Princess.

princess worth dying

The planet that doesn't exist

glass sea

Sergey Lukyanenko

PRINCESS WORTH DEATH

1. "Betrothal"

3. Flat sword

4. Mentor for the Lord

5. Lessons from Hernado

6. Timeless

7 Kidnapping The Princess

8 Kidnapping The Princess

9. Emergency start

10. Lost duel

11. Princess kidnapping - take two

13. The Right of the Enterer

THE PLANET WHICH IS NOT

1. Uninvited guest

2. Night guest

3. Brainstorm

5. Footprint in the sky

7. Avenger

8. Descendants of the Sowers

9. Job for a Klanian

10. Paying for silence

11. Word of the sect

12. Dueling Schedule

13. Defeat

14. Psychocode. Part 1

15. Psychocode. Part 2

16. Maestro

17. Human right

18. Mind and feelings

19. Love and death

20. Inevitability

21. Planet to be

GLASS SEA

Part one

1. On the banks of the Dry River

2. Returned

3. Breakfast in the meadow

4. Hotel for a spy

5. Information without reflection

6. A very well-ordered planet

7. Family dinner in a wide circle

8. Book of Mountains

9. Yin and Yang

Part two

1 Orbital Fortress

2. History of relations with the Fangs

3. The logic of the illogical

4. Soldier and subject

6. Gift of the enemy

7. Gift of a friend

Part Three

1. Day of the Sun

2. Bibliophile

3. Blue dust

4. At the point of a needle

5. Captives of Beauty

6. Minus by minus

7. Confession

8. Red and yellow

Illustrations

Sergey Lukyanenko

Lord from planet earth

PRINCESS WORTH DEATH

1. "Betrothal"

- Can I fall in love with you?

I didn't hear the question right away. Busy with the very difficult attempt to rise from the ground without leaning on my bloody fists, I almost forgot about the girl. This often happens in very violent fights - by the end of them, the reason for the quarrel has time to be forgotten.

- Can I fall in love with you?

I finally managed to get up. My hands hurt the most, which was good. It turns out that I blocked most of the blows. If not for a direct to the face in the last seconds, the victory would have been perfect. And bloodless; for me of course...

- Can I fall in love with you?

It was as if I saw myself from the outside. Tall, muscular, in a torn shirt, with a face covered in blood. They had brass knuckles, didn't they? An amateur Superman standing unsteadily surrounded by three defeated enemies and a rescued girl. Is it possible to fall in love with this?

And looked at the girl.

Lord, why did they get attached to her? Quite a youngster, thirteen or fourteen years old. Beautiful indeed...

Very beautiful.

Soft brown hair that falls freely over thin shoulders. Slender legs, long, but without adolescent disproportion. Figurine, correct to perfection, to the classical proportions of Greek sculptures. Big dark blue eyes in a disturbing, and from this even more beautiful face. So, after all, she was frightened ... Only her voice remained calm, restrained.

I looked at the girl, unable to tear my eyes away. She was dressed surprisingly: in short, tight shorts, a T-shirt-top made of glossy purple-red fabric, the same cherry sneakers, pale pink socks that rolled down on her ankles. A golden chain wrapped around her beautiful thin neck twice, so massive that the thought flashed through my mind - a fake. And suddenly I realized that it was not so. There was nothing fake on the girl. The chain is gold, worth a lot of money.

God, how had she not been attacked before?

- Are you in a lot of pain? the girl asked quietly.

“Now everything will pass,” the girl said firmly, confidently. And she held out her hand to me.

Warm, tender fingers touched my face. She didn't seem to see the sticky blood caked on her skin. Or - not afraid to touch her.

It does not hurt anymore.

It felt like a cold wind had blown over me. Consciousness gained clarity. My body shuddered and I tensed, ready to throw myself into the fray again. Ready to die because of a strange girl. Ready to kill anyone who dares to offend her.

And the pain disappeared.

“I am very glad,” the girl continued. "You're beautiful, though it doesn't matter. You are strong, but that's not the most important thing. You are brave.

For a second she was silent. Her fingers slid over my face, and somewhere in the depths of the skin a slight chill was born. It's strange, because the palm is so warm ...

- And most importantly - you can fall in love.

I nodded. Now, quite deliberately. I want you to fall in love with me, weird girl.

Because I already love you.

Will you wait until I grow up?

She smiled and her huge blue eyes lit up. The girl asked, already knowing the answer. As if performing a boring but obligatory ritual.

"Then give me your hand."

Something heavy and small fell into my palm. The fingers tightened on their own, hiding the unexpected gift.

“You should wear it until you change your mind.” Until you get tired of waiting. And I have to go.

The girl stepped back. Into the darkness, into the tangle of trees, into the unknown.

“Wait…” I leaned towards her. - I spend…

And again a smile - laughing eyes on the face of the young goddess.

- I'm being escorted. It's too far a way... for you. I'm glad we got engaged. Goodbye.

I was seized with an incomprehensible numbness. I saw her go, and every cell of the body, every muscle, every nerve trailed after her. I had to go after her, I had to take the girl home ...

But I couldn't move. I just looked at her. And then he opened his hand. And saw a ring of heavy yellow metal.

...Tonight we hung out at Krol's house. What place he occupies in our office is understandable, I think, by his nickname. Lop-eared, with eternally red, watery eyes, fussy about business. But with parents-geologists, who disappear for a long time on business trips, and quite a decent US video recorder.

I came to the party already warmed up. The state was strange - usually I either do not drink at all, or I bring myself to a complete buzz. Now I don't want to drink at all.

It was dark in Krol's room, the VCR was on, and seven or eight people were sitting on the wide, shabby bed. Someone called loudly:

- Serge, land!

- Hey, place Serge ...

I waved my hand languidly, both saying hello and explaining that I wasn't going to sit down. He stood for a minute, leaning against the door frame, looking at the screen, where the next episode of Nightmares on Elm Street was on. The indestructible Freddy Krueger flailed the skinny bespectacled guy with his razor fingers. Blood gushed out like a fountain. The bespectacled man, with a doomed look, as if realizing the futility of his undertaking, fired at Freddie from two huge revolvers. Shreds of a striped shirt and pieces of rotten meat flew out of the Kruger in no less spectacular geysers.

I turned around and walked towards the bathroom. The enthusiastic voice of the gundos translator followed me: “And now, guys, I’ll take care of you for real ...”

"I'm fast," I explained, turning on the cold water. I feel the need to wash...

An icy stream whipped on the back of the head, flowed down the collar. I shook my head, moaning in pleasure. So what else do I need? Cigarette...

“If you climb more, I’ll hit lower,” I said admonishingly. - You will be unemployable.

I looked for a towel, but I didn't find it. Smiled at the girl

- I'd like to dry off.

My search for a cigarette led me to the kitchen. If my goal was to inject nicotine into the lungs, this visit would have been sufficient. Despite the open window and the small number of people - three guys and a kissing couple, the air seemed to be an infusion of oxygen on tobacco smoke.

Sitting on the windowsill next to the Count and Dos, I held out my hand without looking. The count put in a brand new, just opened package: a soft yellow wrapper with a camel grazing against the backdrop of the minaret. Obviously not Turkish, for sale "outside the US".

I picked up the short Camelina and slipped the pack into my pocket.

- You give me a gift, okay?

The Count grimaced, but did not protest. He brought a lighter, also branded, this time prudently without letting go.

Taking a puff, I smiled blissfully and relaxed back. Right through the open window.

The girl squealed without stopping kissing. I leaned over the ledge, froze, looking at Alma-Ata at night from the height of the ninth floor. Smooth, like a ruler drawn, marked by a dotted line of lanterns, the streets. Spots of colored light in the squares. Cars crawling through the streets that once bore the names of Pasteur and Gorky, and now - someone hard to remember. A high-rise hotel shrouded in soft light with a “crown” on the roof surrounded by red lights.

With my feet, I firmly caught on the cast-iron ribs of the battery. Dos patted me on the stomach: stop fooling around, you will go down ...

I straightened up, sitting down on the windowsill again. The count silently nodded to the table, where, surrounded by piles and sliced sausage, a half-filled bottle of Zhybek Zholy vodka was missing. Her two empty sisters lay under the table. I shook my head. No I do not want to. I don't know why, but it doesn't work...

The door slammed in the hallway. A minute later, filled with the rustle of shoes being taken off and a quiet conversation, Romik entered the kitchen. Behind him is an unknown girl.

I got dizzy. I suddenly felt sober. Blue eyes from under chestnut bangs, a slim figure, denim shorts. The girl was beautiful. And it seemed painfully familiar.

I watched Romik and his girlfriend approach us. And in the depths of his soul sounded an insinuating whisper of reason. "Calm down. Come to your senses, Sergei. Five years have passed. Almost five ... You can fall in love at seventeen, but it's stupid to remember childhood love at twenty-two. She just looks like it."

Very similar.

I shook Romkin's hand. And why does he always have wet hands? The Count unceremoniously asked:

Are you with a new girlfriend?

Romik squinted at the girl and said evasively:

- As you see…

“I’m not your girlfriend yet,” the girl said, looking at us. - Will you introduce me?

- Meet Ada. From the Faculty of Biology…” Romik began.

“Men are introduced first,” Ada said squeamishly. She looked at me appraisingly. So they study the mannequin in the window.

I nudged Dos with my shoulder and took Ada's hand. Pulled towards him.

- Sit down.

She sat down silently.

My name is Serge. Will you be my girlfriend?

Ada shrugged. She looked at Romik. He smiled wryly.

"Don't worry, he'll let you," I explained. “I gave him my girl last week, so he owes him a favor. Right, Romik?

"Serge, you've become shy," Romik said quietly.

"Get out," I ordered curtly.

Romik took a full pile from the table. He drank in one gulp. He gave me a hateful look. And left.

He knew me.

I closed my eyes, took a puff, swallowing the sweetish smoke, and heard the voice of the Count:

– Talk to him, Serge?

I shook my head.

“He is within his rights, Count. And I got it right. I'll figure it out myself.

The cigarette has smoldered almost to the filter. With each puff, the tobacco seemed stronger.

"I don't like that you smoke," Ada said softly.

- I took it in foreign exchange ...

“Follow me,” I reassured him. “Count, I need an empty room.

The Count nodded. Dos picked it up and pulled it from the kitchen. The couple and the third boy had already fled earlier.

- And what does it mean? – pulled away from me, asked Ada.

I looked at her eagerly. Looks like. But that girl is now eighteen years old. Ada is older.

- Can I fall in love with you? – highlighting each word I asked.

Ada shrugged.

- That's your business. Take a chance…

That girl would have answered differently. I don’t know how, but not so deliberately carelessly, with the look of a fatal woman who has gone through fire, water and copper pipes.

- Do you let me drink? I asked rudely, and reached for the bottle. Ada nodded. I swallowed vodka straight from the bottle, not feeling the jet of burning flame on my lips.

"Leave it," Ada begged.

I handed her a bottle of vodka splashing at the bottom. Inhaled deeply. Mouth, throat, esophagus - everything seemed to catch fire, filled with a burning weight. A clear, warning thought flashed through my mind: "I'll pass out in half an hour."

I looked at Ada. She finished her vodka, and so did I - from the neck. And nothing, she sat quietly, laying her foot behind her. I suddenly noticed that the legs were covered with sparse hairs. Slightly, and even diligently discolored, but ...

“What could be scarier than hairy female legs? Hairy female breasts.

We can deal with breasts.

– Have you heard about me? I asked, feeling that my tongue obeyed with some difficulty.

Ada nodded.

- Yes. You are Sergey-Serge. You hold the whole district, but you could hold the city. Karateist. Hand-to-hand combat instructor in a sports club.

- What else? I demanded.

– Fought somewhere in the south, with the separatists. He was wounded in the Caspian landing. Studied in honey, dropped out. Now you are recovering.

Wow, fame...

“More,” I almost shouted.

Ada was silent.

You have never confessed your love to anyone. Even those with whom he slept. And there were many. They say that five years ago, still under the Soviet Union, you saved a girl from bandits and fell in love with her. She gave you a ring that you've been wearing ever since. This is it?

I raised my right hand, unbearably heavy and clumsy. There was a dull yellow ring on her ring finger. A tiny diamond pressed into the gold glowed like a pale spark.

"He doesn't like it," I said sadly. A fluctuating fog covered his head, everything swam before his eyes. Do you see how it faded? I do shit, I act like a pig...

Bringing my face closer to Ada, I whispered:

You look like her, okay? Outside..

Ada nodded in understanding.

- I understood. You haven't beaten girls from anyone. They stick to you.

“You know everything about me,” I said thoughtfully. "Have you been after me for a long time?" I won't fall in love with you...

“I like strong men,” she shook her bangs. Those who are stronger than me.

- Right here? she asked ironically.

I hooked my fingers around the waistband of my shorts and tugged.

- Take it off!

Ada undid the button on her shorts, ripped open the zipper with a bang. She trampled on shorts, remaining in lace white panties.

2. Call

I woke up at noon. His head was pounding with pain. His mouth was dry, his lips covered with dry white muck.

And I was also incredibly ashamed. For the beaten guy in the bathroom. For foppishness with cigarettes. For the disgraced Romka.

For the blue-eyed handsome man with the short name Ada.

I looked at the ring - it seemed more gray than yellow. The diamond looked like glass.

“I’m a bastard,” I whispered, getting up from the crumpled sheet. - The bastard who holds the district. A bastard who teaches brats how to fight and makes money doing it.

On the way to the bathroom, I turned on the tape recorder, and the roar of electronic music filled the apartment. Old Jean-Michel Jar tried his best.

Cold shower. Then - hot: tight jets of boiling water, beating from a flexible hose. And again - ice water under extreme pressure.

I'm cold and burned. He groaned in pleasure, then squealed in pain. Then, without drying himself, he got out of the bath, went into the kitchen, put the kettle on to warm up. The apartment was empty - the parents had long gone to work. My good parents, proud of a good son.

"I'm a bastard," I repeated. But it's so hard to wait for you. So long... I really love you. Even though I don't know anything, not even the name.

Having poured two spoons of instant coffee into boiling water, I sat down at the table with a cup. Opened a pack of dry biscuits. I didn't want to eat, on the contrary, I felt nauseous. But I knew from experience that after eating it would be easier.

As I sipped my coffee, I stole a glance at the ring. The metal came to life, filled with pure amber yellowness. A transparent crystal, which I used to consider a diamond, began to shine.

Much brighter.

I admired the play of light on a small crumb of carbon, which was turned from black coal into a sparkling diamond by monstrous pressure and heat.

If the ring was a random gift to an unfamiliar savior, then the strange girl was the daughter of a millionaire. It is unlikely that I will see her again. I'm sure I'll never meet anyone like it.

Still, it's great that she was. Laughing blue eyes. Soft fingers that wash away the pain. And the persistent question: “Can I fall in love with you?”

“Yes,” I said affectionately, looking at the ring. - Yes.

Are you still waiting?

Will you come if I ask?

I was thrown from my chair. No, I jumped off myself. I no longer remembered. Didn't talk to myself.

And she remembered me!

- Are not you afraid? This is a very long way.

- I'm not afraid.

Time is running out and we must hurry. Think again - you won't regret it? I call you to another world, to another planet.

I guess I've always thought about it. Not even a shadow of surprise flickered in my soul. There was no fear either. Pity this world? Drunken faces of the Count and Dos? Two years of the army spent in special forces units? Evening conversations of parents - how beautiful our country was before the collapse, under Lena ... Weekly scuffle on invisible borders that divide the city into teenage districts?

- I will come. I won't regret it.

Pause. Silence, white and crisp, like a sterile medical gown. A second pause in the conversation between the two worlds.

“Tell me, did you really…remember me?”

“Yes…” I was confused.

- I'm in trouble ... Big trouble. You are the last chance for many thousands of... people. It happened. An ancient custom has become a barrier to evil.

“I don’t understand,” I said helplessly, “explain what happened?”

- Time is running out. Do you understand that you can die?

- Yes, probably.

– Will you come?

- Yes! But how?

- Now I will break the stone of our ring. He is the key that closes the tunnel. The barrier will disappear and you will come. But I don't know who will meet you on my planet - an enemy or a friend.

For some reason I was surprised by the words about "our ring". And as quickly as it appeared, misunderstanding dissipated. I suddenly realized: on her hand - the same ring as mine. The ring is forked, divided into two worlds.

"I'm going," I said simply. - I'm going.

The stone in the ring flared with a blinding white spark. A web of cracks covered the mirrored edges. Another moment - and he disappeared completely. And the ring was enveloped in a golden glow. As a thin, weightless film, it spread over my arm, slid over my body, and enveloped me in a shimmering veil.

And the world around disappeared.

I was falling. No, rather, he flew, in weightlessness, in an incorporeal yellowness, sweet as honey and warm as amber. I was rocked on huge gentle palms, I was lulled by gentle touches. The world was saturated with warmth and peace, there was no room left for fear or pain. Friendly voices whispered something kind, hummed an endless mesmerizing melody. Ghostly shadows rushed towards me, obeying barely conscious thoughts. The body seemed to grow, filling all this unreal world, turning into a transparent, sunny yellow, smelling of lemon and mint, smoke; in a cloud of orange dust; in a brilliant rain falling on a huge golden circle.

And suddenly, completing the magical charm of the flight, a wave of unbearable, voluptuous, body-turning pleasure fell upon me. I struggled in convulsions, trying to hold on to the last, elusive grains of intoxicating inhuman pleasure. But the amber mist was already disappearing, dissipating, quenching...

I woke up.

The most unpleasant thing was that when I came out of the bathroom, I didn't bother to get dressed. Now, as I lay prone on the stony ground strewn with sharp pebbles, nakedness caused me unbearable pain. The transition from pleasure to pain was so abrupt that for a few moments I lost the ability to think and move. I wanted to shrink, freeze, fall into a sleepy stupor. But it was this contrast that helped me to come to my senses, to forget the sweet delirium of the hypertunnel.

With the first movement, I gently pushed myself off the ground. Pebbles that stuck into the body fell down. With a sharp push, I got up, froze, reflexively taking a fighting stance.

Stony steppe stretched all around to the horizon. Not a bunch of grass, not a bush, not a tree. Not a single blue speck of water. A brown plain under a cloudless but unusually dark sky. And breathe ... not in an earthly way. The air seemed to be filtered, not the slightest smell. It doesn’t even smell of dust, and this, in my opinion, is a must for the steppe. And the sun in the sky is ordinary, yellow, like at home,

"Looks like it's gone," I whispered to myself.

Where did you call me, girl from a childhood dream? Where has it been thrown magic ring, an invariable talisman, a precious toy?

With a mixture of shame and anger, I looked at myself. Naked athlete. God forbid, I'll run into a woman now. You won't get shame...

God forbid, I won't run into anyone. How many days does a person live without water? Three or five...

I suddenly remembered the ring. He looked at his hand - did it disappear? The ring was still worn on the ring finger. But the diamond crystal has disappeared. Didn't even leave a dent in the gold. Well, the key is turned in the lock, and the barrier is open. There is no way back.

Looking around - everything is the same, the scorched steppe, no difference, I oriented myself by the sun and decided that I would go east. Of course, if I'm not mistaken, and now it's morning.

My feet didn't hurt even after walking barefoot for three hours. Affected training in karate. Sometimes it seems to me that on the soles, the ribs of the palms and the knuckles, instead of skin, some kind of horny plate has grown, hard and absolutely insensitive. But I was terribly thirsty. I longingly recalled unfinished coffee, but the sight of a kettle filled with cold water from the tap tried not to evoke consciousness at all. If I am so thirsty after a short walk, then tomorrow it will become unbearable.

Besides, the sun has let me down. It slowly settled in the "east". It turns out that now is not morning, but evening. Well, I'm moving west.

Of course, there was no difference in the choice of direction. It is quite possible that they should have gone north, where a gigantic city could rise. It is possible that in the south there are huge lakes, along the banks of which edible fruits grow. But it's always a shame to be wrong.

When the sun was half hidden behind the horizon, I began to get ready for bed: to look out for a place more or less even and free from gravel. The first awkwardness from walking naked has already passed. Still no one sees. I felt myself primitive man who had not yet invented clothes.

True, I had a ring on my hand. Sometimes I touched it with my fingertips, as if waiting for something. Advice, support, a sip of water ... You called, the girl of my dreams, and I came.

Gul was born high in the sky, in the west. I stopped, peering. And he saw how two flying dots flashed like silver sparks above the semicircle of the setting sun.

For some reason, I immediately thought of combat aircraft, fighters. Either the swiftness of the flight, or the clearly noticeable maneuvers of the "aircraft" suggested such an idea. The one that flew first continuously changed altitude and speed, dived, soared up like a candle. The second synchronously repeated his movements, reducing and reducing the distance separating them.

I tilted my head and watched the flight. Both aircraft were already above me, but the height, no less than five kilometers, made it difficult to see the outlines. Just silvery dots in the dark sky - where they raced, the sun was still shining with might and main.

I was waiting for the denouement. I was sure that it was inevitable, that the chase would end somewhere here. And the denouement followed, but not the one that seemed most likely.

A swirling white flame, dim, more like smoke than fire, appeared around the pursuer. The silver car began to move away. But slowly, very slowly. And the luminous cloud moved after it, like steel filings crawling over a sheet of paper behind a strong magnet.

Wrapped in white flames, the car began to fall. Sheer, somersaulting, gaining volume with every second, turning into something like a flattened ball. For a few more seconds, the deadly cloud descended nearby, then lagged behind and began to fade.

The downed apparatus fell on me. I crouched, hastily deciding whether to run away and where. But the car doesn't seem to be completely out of control yet. Slipping at a height of several hundred meters above the ground, it slowed down and hung. For a moment, I thought she could land safely.

With a soft, cotton-like explosion, the metal ball disintegrated. An orange flame flashed.

The reflexes hammered into the army did not disappoint. In a jump, no longer paying attention to the stones, I stretched out on the ground, with my feet towards the fire. From alien technology, I expected any muck, up to an atomic explosion.

The fragments rumbled dully around. He breathed in heat, a hot wind blew his back. For a few more seconds, an oppressive rumble hung in the air, a dull pain echoing throughout the body. Then the verse and he. Only a lone piece of iron tinkled. rolling over the rocks in my direction.

I got up. About five meters away, completing its movement, a small metal disk bounced in one place - the surviving part of the destroyed apparatus. In the distance was a dark pile of debris, nothing resembling a flattened ball, which until recently was rapidly maneuvering in the sky. The weapons used in this world, for all their exoticism, were very effective.

Having rounded a small disk (I absolutely did not want to approach it), I wandered to the wreckage. It seemed unrealistic to find something whole there, but a sharp piece of metal would be very useful. A knife is the simplest, but also the most reliable weapon in the world. It does not misfire, and it does not run out of ammunition. True, cold weapons also require some skills from their owner ...

Deep down inside, I knew it was not safe to approach the wrecked car. She could be radioactive. Fuel, if it existed at all, is likely poisonous. Finally, in an exploded apparatus, blocks that have not yet exploded are quite capable of surviving. In some places, tongues of light flame ran through the metal rubbish. The ground under my feet was hot. Another explosion could follow at any second.

I didn't get to the rest of the car. A few meters away, I saw the pilot.

He lay with his arms outstretched, a motionless black imprint against the background of a gray circle of unburned earth. The figure was human, anthracite black, like a thick shadow, like a charred piece of wood painted with a dark brush of fire. But when I got closer, I saw that the flame had spared him. Just from the tips of the fingers to the top of the pilot's head, he was tight, showing off every muscle, overalls. The fabric gleamed oily, but neither the red reflection of the sunset nor the blue reflections of the dying car were visible on it. She seemed to absorb the light falling on her in order to refract it, process it into her own slight shimmer. In some places, the thin film of the overalls swelled with clusters of small balls, thickened, turning into narrow belts that covered the body.

On the belt of the pilot hung a short wide holster, located unusually - on the right. At the left thigh, clinging to the leg, a long flat sheath was fastened.

How can an ordinary acquaintance in the park end when a district superman defends a girl in a brutal fight? A wedding, a duel, a battle in space, a galactic war?

Both that, and another, and the third with the fourth together. Because it is from this meeting that the fantastic trilogy novel by Sergei Lukyanenko “Lord from Planet Earth” begins.

But it is not enough, it turns out, only to decide. It is not enough even to do the unattainable, one must also confirm one's right to a perfect deed. Make yourself and everyone believe in him.

You can plunge headlong into adventures and wanderings, testing yourself for strength with every minute dangers. But this is not an option either. The flow of events that do not increase in scale can become monotonous. And if there is no movement to more and more complex games, to increase the stakes, the plot fades. The advice of the Black Queen to Alice remains in force: "...here, you know, you have to run as fast as you can just to stay in the same place."

Which path did the Prince and Princess, the Earth and the stars take? Who won the duel?

But there will still be more questions.

princess worth dying

In memory of Vitaly Ivanovich Bugrov ...

Part one

1. Betrothal

- Can I fall in love with you?

And looked at the girl.

Lord, why did they get attached to her? Quite a youngster, thirteen or fourteen years old. Beautiful indeed...

Very beautiful.

Soft brown hair that falls freely over thin shoulders. Slender legs, long, but without adolescent disproportion. Figurine, correct to perfection, to the classical proportions of Greek sculptures. Big dark blue eyes in an anxious and even more beautiful face. So, after all, she was frightened ... Only her voice remained strangely calm.

God, how had she not been attacked before?

- Are you in a lot of pain? the girl asked quietly.

“Now everything will pass,” the girl said confidently. And she held out her hand to me.

Warm, tender fingers touched my face. She didn't seem to see the dried, sticky blood. Or - not afraid to touch her.

It does not hurt anymore.

A cold wind hit me. Consciousness gained clarity. I tensed, ready to throw myself into the fray again. Ready to die because of a strange girl. Ready to kill anyone who dares to offend her.

And the pain disappeared.

“I am very glad,” the girl continued. "You're beautiful, though it doesn't matter. You are strong, but that's not the most important thing. You are brave.

For a second she was silent. Her fingers slid over my face, and somewhere in the depths a slight chill was born. It's strange, because the palm is so warm ...

- And most importantly - you can fall in love.

I nodded. Now it's quite conscious. I want you to fall in love with me, weird girl.

Because I already love you.

Will you wait until I grow up?

She smiled and her huge blue eyes lit up. The girl asked, already knowing the answer. As if performing a boring but obligatory ritual.

"Then give me your hand."

Something heavy and small fell into my palm. The fingers tightened on their own, hiding the unexpected gift.

“You should wear it until you change your mind.” Until you get tired of waiting. And I have to go.

The girl stepped back. Into the darkness, into the tangle of trees, into the unknown.

“Wait…” I leaned towards her. - I spend.

And again a smile - laughing eyes on the face of the young goddess.

- I'm being escorted. It's too far a way... for you. I'm glad we got engaged. Goodbye.

An incomprehensible numbness fell over me. I saw her go, and every cell of the body, every muscle, every nerve trailed after her. We must go after her, we must take the girl home ...

But I couldn't move. I just looked at her. And then he opened his hand. And saw a ring of heavy yellow metal.

Lord from Planet Earth (compilation) Sergey Lukyanenko

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Title: Lord from Planet Earth (compilation)

About the book "Lord from Planet Earth (collection)" Sergey Lukyanenko

"Is it possible to fall in love with you?"

A strange question from a girl he saved from hooligans...

A question that will not give him rest on earth.

A question that will torment him in an alien world engulfed in the flames of war.

In a world where he has to become "the lord from the planet Earth" - the Planet That Doesn't exist...

Read the most original space opera in the history of Russian science fiction!

On our site about books, you can download the site for free without registration or read online book"Lord from Planet Earth (compilation)" by Sergey Lukyanenko in epub, fb2, txt, rtf, pdf formats for iPad, iPhone, Android and Kindle. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and a real pleasure to read. Buy full version you can have our partner. Also, here you will find last news from literary world, find out the biography of your favorite authors. For beginner writers there is a separate section with useful tips and recommendations, interesting articles, thanks to which you yourself can try your hand at writing.

Quotes from the book "Lord from Planet Earth (collection)" Sergey Lukyanenko

I was silent. I was like a climber climbing a forbidding mountain peak and discovering a hotel, a restaurant and a heliport. I could neither rejoice at the end of the torment, nor be sad because of the vainness of the feat.

If you love - then a princess, if you hate - then a whole civilization.

Even the all-powerful want to measure their strength. And it's scary when there is no lock to which the key does not fit, questions for which there are no answers have disappeared.

The first love cannot be happy - otherwise the second will turn into a curse

Only crazy people are happy in this world,” the writer said through the mouth of a god who descended to Earth. I wonder why he came down to Earth?
“I don’t remember,” I said out loud. Lance looked at me in surprise.
We forget our fulfilled desires, but in order to desire, one must become weak; in order to feel, one must close one's eyes and ears. Only in a fairy tale, the punishment for fulfilled wishes is the loss of memories. In life, desires serve as a reward for memory loss. Tell me, after reading a book that has become your friend, have you ever dreamed of forgetting it and reading it again? Have you ever taken your friends to the movies to see a movie you've already seen and enjoy their enthusiasm? Did you appreciate what was easy, or what was achieved with labor?
The thirst is stronger in the desert.
Strength is filled with weakness. And her name is indifference.
Only the weak are interested in fighting.

- Sergey, this will be a false departure ... The old philosophical problem free will has been decided. We are not free. We are carried along by the main stream of history, and all we are given is to flounder more or less vigorously. Even in the present, which is the future for you, you are doomed to do what the course of history requires of you. There is no free will.
– Free will, Maestro, is the absence of a person who knows your actions in advance. That's all.

The boy picked up the thermal pad from the ground and shook it.
He confidently said:
No, I won't fall in love with anyone. This is nothing but trouble. Prove something, experience ...
“That’s right,” I chuckled, climbing into the hatch. I thought so too when I was your age. It's a shame that over the years we become dumber and forget our brilliant decisions.

I didn't hear the question right away. Busy with the very difficult attempt to rise from the ground without leaning on my bloody fists, I almost forgot about the girl. This often happens in very violent fights - by the end of them, the reason for the quarrel has time to be forgotten.

A man who defies fate is a favorite sight of the gods. Oh well. Banal truth, but to the point ...

How can an ordinary acquaintance in the park end when a district superman defends a girl in a brutal fight? A wedding, a duel, a battle in space, a galactic war?
Both that, and another, and the third with the fourth together. Because it is from this meeting that the fantastic trilogy novel by Sergei Lukyanenko “Lord from Planet Earth” begins.
If the girl turns out to be a princess of a distant stellar empire, then everything else will follow: blasters and starships, web mines and temples of the Forerunner Sowers. And atomic swords, whose blades are sharpened by waves of flame - swords are sharper than the scythe of Death and Occam's razor.
This is life - when you immediately burst into an unfamiliar world. When you turn it upside down to get your way.

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