Time Jumps. The Paradigm of Immortality. Vladimir Baranchikov
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At noon on the twenty-third of July, the carriage with the Comtesse de Burlemont stopped not far from the prison gates. The fortress was a huge quadrangle with eight towers twenty meters high and a deep moat. A suspension bridge is thrown over a moat filled with water. After crossing the bridge to the gate, Daria handed the Duke’s letter to the commandant through the window. At least half an hour of agonizing waiting had passed when the bolts rattled and the heavy door, studded with metal strips, opened. Daria, dressed in a black robe and a black hat with a veil, followed two jailers through a narrow corridor with many bars with locks and went out into the courtyard of the building. Her escorts led her along a cobblestone path to one of the five-story towers, where another supervisor, a portly, gloomy-looking one, let her in. The two of them went down a narrow staircase to the underground chamber where Peter was imprisoned. Keys rattled, and the narrow door to the casemate opened.
– Fifteen minutes, – the fat man said triumphantly, reveling in his little power, and slammed the door from the outside, leaving the prisoner and the Countess alone.
When Daria crossed the threshold of this dungeon, she felt sick from the smells and darkness. Dampness permeated the walls and the floor, strewn here and there with straw on the cold sand. Peter was sitting on an iron bed attached to a long wall. Light penetrated into this room from the corridor through two narrow openings located at the very bottom of the door, and painted his prison uniform in gray tones.
– Petronel! Daria exclaimed and rushed to him in despair. The prisoner looked exhausted and depressed.
– Dorian! – Peter found the strength to hug her. Then he pulled away and stared in surprise at the beautiful face that reflected both the joy of meeting and the shock of what he saw. His voice, as before, remained as euphonious. – How did you get in here?
– My beloved, my heart breaks from what I see. My friends helped me arrange our meeting, I got an audience with the king and appealed to his Majesty for a sense of justice. You may be released soon, but it will be possible only by a court decision.
Peter listened attentively to Daria’s words, lowering his head. Then, looking at her as if he had seen her for the last time, and with a calmness that betrayed the full horror of his situation, he asked:
– Do you really believe I’m going to get out of here? The reason is not in me, but in your beauty and the brightness of the feelings that it causes. The king’s sympathy for a married woman is a death sentence not only for the Comte de Armand de Burlemont.
Peter looked at Daria and smiled. She was suddenly afraid.
– What should we do? – she exclaimed. There was no trace of her former determination. – Darling, I have revealed to the King the secret of our time travel, but it does not seem that such explanations could be taken seriously.
– If we don’t change the course of events, we won’t see each other again. – Peter spoke as if he had thought it over for a long time. – My fate is sealed, and no one can change it. Your fate as a favorite of Louis XIV is so unique and unpredictable that I have not the slightest right to ask you to give it up. Ahead of you is success in society, golden mountains, dangers and imminent oblivion. But there is another scenario…
– Which one? Daria exclaimed, experiencing conflicting feelings, but still sincerely wanting neither to leave nor to betray her beloved.
– We have the opportunity to return to the twenty-first century together. To return to where they came from, and, perhaps, by those who left that time. But – listen carefully – if only one person, you or I, decides to make a time jump, the car will move with him, and the second one will not be able to return. This is irreversible. I think you won’t judge me: I want to avoid death, so I’m flying. But you are free in your decision…
Daria sank down on the bed next to Peter without strength. After a short silence, she asked:
– I’m desperate to have to make such a cruel choice, because I only love you. But will you be able to understand and forgive me if I stay? It is unlikely that my words will soften the bitterness of separation, but I swear: the reason is not affection for someone, even if it can connect me with the king of France. I choose a Time and a way of life where, alas, there is no place for the person I adore, and no one can replace him for me. I may regret it later…
– I’ve already forgiven you, because I love you too. I will feel happy if your dream comes true, even when I leave you. Know, Dasha, that you are always with me: your eyes, your kindness, the feelings that you gave me…
– Petya, I will never forget you. And I’m sorry again…
She began to cry, clinging to his chest. The lock on the cell door grated, and the jailer, without wasting words, pointed to the countess with his hand to exit.
An hour later, when the Comtesse de Burlemont was safe in the Hotel du Beautrin, a prisoner disappeared from the Bastille fortress without a trace. When the loss was discovered, the commandant raised all the guards on the ears, but the fugitive could not be found anywhere. The Paris police have been notified of the escape of a dangerous criminal and all possible measures have been taken to find and detain him.
CHAPTER 10. DEJA VU
Peter escaped from the dungeon of the Bastille, expressing his desire with the phrase “I want to go back”, and, having moved to another dimension, made a jump to 2021, crossing the gap of four hundred years and two thousand kilometers. When his ability to think returned, he felt like he was sitting on the couch next to his old parrot friends. The clever girls Grunya and Borya looked with obvious bewilderment at the guest who had fallen to them from nowhere, and bowed their heads in his direction in surprise. Their cohabitation in a cage precluded the ability to speak humanly, but undoubtedly: each of them would be able to express a common firm opinion:
– Peter is a fool, Peter is a fool!
Peter telepathically caught the thought floating in the air:
– Really, would a reasonable person leave his beloved, a count’s title and a royal court in beautiful Paris? – And then he answered with conviction: – No, everything was done correctly. The Bastille is not a Louvre or a sanatorium.
He looked around once again in a new setting: a rural hut, this is my first time here. Undoubtedly, the time machine had the function of sanity and, moreover, a well-developed sense of humor, placing it in a space causally related to the initial starting events. A kind of deja vu.
– I wonder who is the mysterious developer of this miracle that ignores the laws of nature? Nature itself? – Peter pretty much strained his thinking apparatus, but due to natural limitations, he immediately got lost in the wilds of abstract logic.
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