- Why do I dream, sleep and believe in a bright and clear future, if everything is so dark and hopeless? These are almost burned out candles around the photo display? Self-burnt ego? For what?
Strange silver matter sparkles from a small photo-spark and shows me who was around me, who committed useless and bad actions against humanity and against personal parts of society ... - Alex Ives's words, which are taken from the context of a letter received recently, this morning. Before Jack Waiton unlocked the touch panel of the smartphone and looked at the screen to check the network signal and check the exact time in accordance with the clock on the first floor of the headquarters.
"Very often, counting as a point of reference, you can take something completely different from what it really was. Many outside observers pretend that this is something that is not natural, does not concern them, as a result is the very thing that is their attention is needed to resolve the issue after the flash, created by someone and for something"... - theese were answers from philosophy and psychology, flavored with ideas from the law.
Alfred Berrow was upset about this: everything was at the same time so clear, understandable, simple that, on the one hand, did not suggest any solution on the issue, but on the other hand, it affected all the participants in the case in the worst possible way, and complicated the already complicated threads . Alex knew that his friends would rush to him, they would ask for help, give valuable advice, reassure him, but the selfish nature of the camera did not allow him to respond politely and insinuatingly. He was afraid to find the right words in order to protect any unknowing from more serious mistakes.
Chapter nineteenth.
I talked about the tragic melody. Mysteriously: when you meet with an almost incomprehensible person, and in the end you understand: this is Gregory Goodyear, and there, behind him, the others sit in the dark. You are scared, but the only thing that will save you, change the course, becomes different, it is a camera. That is what will be your helper between light and darkness. They offer you to create a photo, and you agree, filling yourself a great price for your work.
Once, walking in around, I heard an unknown sound that called someone, a cold cry for help. Strangers do not go there, it was anywhere... The stars were so restrained and strange, why I was so surprised by such darkness. At an unknown age, everything could be different, but it happened exactly as you did not want.
But, if Alex Ives had not gone to the company of the Goodyears and Berrows, life would not have become like a multi-colored chaos, but would be serene and satisfactory, as the photographer himself felt.
For what he did every day (studio photo-shoots, presentations of different angles and models, nightly gatherings and photo processing, running around the city outskirts in the evening, almost close to twilight and midnight, daily morning headaches and drinking coffee), everything He was tormented, and what he chose because of ignorance, he was paid five dollars for it. It is true, it could get more...
Envy, a sense of pretense, secrecy, gloating, sparks of indignation - however, the search for everything he had to endure, to feel, creating a different reality - real, but it seems to be tangible, as if it were here and now. What happened to Alex? What has he become? What is he doing now? How does it behave at this hour? Questions take an incomprehensible form, and it was necessary to solve them as quickly as possible, which was what detective Waiton was doing, reading books and asking specialists, plunging more and more into an unnecessary cloud of darkness, forgetting about other things, duties and dreams.
It was darkness, fretting, not letting go one step, gnawing at the soul and surging upon the body with all the painful pressure. It remained to be understood whether Ive really did not know or specifically did such an action.
The master of darkness and of tricks Bengalius Cheshkerston, only he could help in the investigation, to protect random people, and to transform the problem into a quiet life. Jack Waiton addressed him a little later, but almost on time, just before the battle against evil.
Chapter twentieth.
One day after, behind the secret deals of detective Waiton... The part of a meeting, which could give the rewards to the evil Goodyear`s try to take more riches.
- The mirror is hanging on the wall, showing my face only to me.
I see the smooth surface soft, and at the same time pointed, details of which it is made... - said Alex, meting Jack and shacked his hand by his hand.
He entered in the room, after few days of his escape.
- There, inside, under a thick layer of glass board, is a thin layer of silver that reflects the image, the light and absorbs any emotion... - Alex tried to say better, but nothing good didn't said.
- Projection? Why would someone project from evilness, pain, excessive pleasure, provoke unreasonable acts? I don’t know... - asked Jack Waiton, washing his arms into the warm and clean water.
- I need protection, some kind of effective amulet against the very energy of the mirror, otherwise it will kill me with its properties and those actions that were sent by someone against me. It was alien, hostile magic, but it existed! - Alex washed hands too, and added the tea in his cup, drank it all in one minute.
- The only question is: "if you have everything you need, you rejoice at every moment, you feel great, you get maximum positive impressions, then why, for whatever reason, do you reflect rage?" - Detective surprised.
- I do not need your explanations, I just do not understand it. I fell again yesterday, but I barely restrained the pipes of the old radiator... - Alex told experience.
- Were they covered? - Jack asked, opened the files of the affairs.
- They were covered in stainless paint! Therefore, there is no stickiness, no reflection, no water after touching. I found protection! - photographer answered, looking into windows of work cabinet.
But the guest didn`t something at all, sitting into armchair, and shifting his eyes from place to place round the room.
Chapter twenty
-
first.
So hard return to reality and to the Past, when you forgot about tears and fallens, knowing: "Tomorrow I will be better, then I was yesterday. Was somebody`s may be unfortunate day of work?"
You can’t know about the future. And, of course, you never will imagine the results of the closing moments behind and after.
I`m collapsing star, I`m invisible. Later, will you awesome?
I`m so far, for you I will be not able to come.
- And now, about what we will talking?
- How about what? Yeah, about me! I’m clever, I`m beautiful, I`m moderately well-fed man.