Chapter 1

The mushroom was excellent. An unreasonably thick leg, a hat of such impressive dimensions that it will not fit entirely in every pan. They say about such record holders as if they were about apples: “poured”. You don't even have to touch it to know how tight it is. If only the worms did not have time to get to the handsome forest. Although even with them you can put up with if their number does not go off scale. It turns out with an admixture of meat, that's all. Even those who previously turned up their noses only at the hint of such a treat, now they will gladly gobble up everything on both cheeks. Dramatically changed life quickly forced us to abandon many principles, including gastronomic ones.

Rogov climbed this slope not at all for the sake of a quiet hunt, but he could not resist: he sat down over the handsome man, took out a thin flint plate inserted into a handle made of wood and tarred plant fibers, began to try on the base of the leg, but froze when he heard a suspicious noise. Below and to the left, under a low ledge, bristling with angular protrusions of wild stone, someone was walking. And his gait was not like an animal.

Crouching over the mushroom, Rogov lost the height from which one can see who is stomping there. But he, in turn, will not be able to see him now. And he is even in a worse position, because there was no sense from the ears: after all, Rogov did not make a sound.

He was in no hurry to get up. Of course, it is interesting to see who the devils brought here, but the last months of a dramatically changed life taught Rogov not to rush to show himself to the whole district without special need. Judging by the noise, there is not a single pedestrian, but a group. Maybe there were ten of them, and he was alone, and who knows who he is dealing with now and what is on their minds.

The situation was aggravated by the fact that Rogov knew for sure that none of his own should be here. A group of explorers, having gone deep into the eastern foothills, reached this place a couple of hours ago, and all the fighters were on the other side of the hill. Rogov, violating his own strict instructions not to move away from his comrades, climbed here alone.

It happened by accident. Initially, I planned to just go to the top and appreciate the views. But there the view was hindered by bushes and placers of gnarled pines, I had to cross over to the other side and walk farther and farther in search of a clearing with a convenient view. At the same time, every minute I told myself that here, another hundred steps - and it's time to turn around. But he did not stop at the measured one, all the time it seemed that over there, below, in a few meters, a bald patch suitable for observation began.

In general, I got unhealthy carried away and moved away from the top for a kilometer, if not more. And here I came across this mushroom, which made me sit down and thereby avoid the likelihood of being discovered.

Earthlings have not yet explored these regions. Too far from their lands—nearly two days' journey if we were to move slowly. With the current pedestrian life - a huge distance. But where can you not climb in order to get hold of what they lack in life - metal. If at first they were set on at least the crappiest iron ore, now they agree to anything. Even if it's just soft copper. This is good for waxers, with a few sharp blows they turn a shapeless flint pebble into a stone knife blade, and people have long lost the habit of primitive technologies, give them completely different materials.

And who likes to cut meat with a stone?

There are plenty of difficulties in the way of obtaining metal. To begin with, in the entire settlement, only one person imagined what ore was, how it looked, where and how it could be found. The times are such that, whoever you spit on, you find yourself in an office worker, infinitely far from mining. It just so happened that in the part of the city that flew here, there were practically no industrial facilities and educational institutions with relevant staff and students. Sergei, or, as it is now customary to call him, Sphen, was formerly a candidate of mineralogical sciences, although this information is not completely verified, from someone else's lips, he himself modestly kept quiet about the source of his considerable knowledge. But here, no one cares about the authenticity of diplomas and other "crusts" - as long as they don't spoil it over and over again, and single mistakes are excusable.

Sfen did not seem to spoil at all. But not a single gram of ore was seen from him. At first, when they were just settling in, they pulled stones from all around for him. He examined them with an air of importance, then put something on a primitive composite map assembled from straightened pieces of birch bark. Then the day came when he began to ask to be given the opportunity to check out a couple of promising areas. Why not give for the sake of all the necessary things? Times are dangerous, so you can't let go of the most sloppy one alone, and even such a useful almost professor - and even more so. Armed escorts were assigned several times, and he spent a lot of time, but all efforts came to nothing, nothing of value was found in the nearby district.

Everyone desperately needs metal, and therefore the circle of searches began to expand. They collected more and more samples from more and more remote areas, then came the sorties of Sphene under heavy guard, lost days, worn out soles of indispensable shoes.

And one blank after another.

For all the time, not a kilogram of at least some metal was received. But in a couple of skirmishes they got three wounded, one of whom was so bad that they thought he would not get out. It seems that he has already begun to recover, but was out of action for several months, and it remains to be seen how this will come back to haunt him further.

Everything is bad here in medicine.

This time they went without any preliminary reconnaissance in the form of samples brought by hunters and other samples. One of the reconnaissance groups that were regularly sent out in different directions to search for earthlings stumbled upon a tiny settlement, or rather a temporary shelter, where eight people vegetated. The poor fellows, having descended from the mountains almost naked and barefoot, first of all ran into the Waxes, having suffered considerable losses, then skillfully took refuge in the hills, changing their places of deployment as often as possible. They ate rhubarb, snails, frogs, squirrels and other animal trifles, while they did not use fire at all for fear of being discovered. In general, the state of the unfortunates was such that even though they howled, they attacked normal food almost with a tiger growl during the first days in the village.

Then they calmed down a little and told a lot of both interesting and not so much. Sphenes was interested in stories that in the area where they lived, there were the remains of some ancient stone structures and huge pits of clearly unnatural origin. He suspected that we are talking about abandoned mining operations. What was the first thing people were interested in? Most likely, metals so needed by earthlings. In general, the “chief geologist” did not have to go to lengthy persuasion in order to organize a long-distance expedition, everything was just “for”.

And now they made a stop at the stream, where Sphen, as usual, will long and meticulously study the placers of stones in the channel and along the banks, and the rest will have to patiently wait for him. True, not everyone will be left idle, because Rogov, if possible, sent out scouts on four sides at each such stop. Having retired for a couple of kilometers, they high points surveyed the surroundings in the hope of spotting the fires of troglodytes and traces of ancient quarries. Even if you didn’t notice anything, it doesn’t matter. Any information about new territories is valuable.

So Rogov ended up in one of the reconnaissance trios. He appointed himself to it - after all, there is no one more important in the detachment. Sfen is in charge of only the research part, he does not delve into everything else. It turns out that right now Rogov himself is violating his order, hell knows how far away from the fighters accompanying him. It was not enough to run into big problems, then there will be laughter later.

Or bitter tears.

The invisible ones, which, thanks to the mushroom that had turned up, did not catch his eye, seemed to have passed by. After giving them half a minute to retire properly, Rogov cautiously and very smoothly began to straighten up, staring after them. And I managed to notice hunched, half-naked figures disappearing among the thickets.

Old acquaintances - waxes. He got a good look at five, but how many had already disappeared from sight is unknown. In appearance, they are not weaklings and are armed soundly, which means that they are not the most seedy tribe. Hunters who went for game, or warriors went on a raid. They have a glorious tradition of stealing the female contingent from their neighbors everywhere. Not in the sense of indulging or eating for dinner, but with the most honest intentions - they take you as a wife. He cracked the one he liked on the forehead, put it on his shoulder - and dragged the newlywed to the hearth. This is usually where the wedding ceremony ends. Everyone is engaged in this without exception, you can run into serious resistance only in those cases when enough male defenders are inopportunely at home. So you have to wait until they leave, and only after that boldly declare for the brides.

A simple way to keep blood from stagnating, which is characteristic of a few primitive peoples. With some variations it was used in many regions on Earth, and in some places "bride theft" has survived to this day in almost its original form or as separate remnants.

Sitting down, Rog placed a dry pine branch on top of the mushroom. Some kind of disguise. He changed his mind about cutting off the handsome man, even helped him, sheltered him from greedy glances - after all, he somehow helped out. Maybe someone will say that it’s ridiculous to suffer such nonsense, but let him first live here for a couple of months, having drank a lot of dashing before that, and then we’ll see how his views on stupid superstitions and everything that can be attributed to them change.

Rogov remained an atheist, but the mushroom that helped him out would not be destroyed. Wrong behavior for a man of the forest.

The former silence returned: apart from the chirping of insects and the chirping of birds, no sounds could be heard. To go down even lower in search of a glade convenient for review was sharply overwhelmed. Horns and so saw too much, it's time to go back.

Kirya and Kat were waiting at the top. The girl polished the bone arrowhead with slow movements, and an old friend was busy criticizing her work without a twinkle:

- If you suffer all sorts of nonsense, nothing good will come of it. Look at yourself: palms in such labor calluses that a young window cleaner in a women's bath will choke himself from the realization of personal inferiority; all covered in scratches, as if on dark nights you steal gooseberries; and the muzzle tanned to the envy of the indigenous people of Africa. A scarecrow from a scourge hut, not otherwise. So what did you turn your hair into? At least she combed out the straw, what a slob.

- Actually, this is not straw, but needles.

- Well, yes, the difference is huge, I don’t even know how to apologize for this.

- What did you catch? What am I doing here? She is here from every pine tree.

- Yeah, because of the heat, I suppose. But garbage doesn't stick to normal girls, remember that. Rogov, why are you so gloomy? Have you buried your beloved mother-in-law? Put all your money in roulette on blue, and then found out that there is no such color? Tell me.

- It's getting worse.

- Worse? Well, come on, we are listening, have fun with us, you are so funny when you say something with a serious look.

- You consider yourself a great humorist, but in fact you are primitive, like an employee of a cheap booth.

- Am I arguing? More complicated than you, of course, but not a cake, I admit.

- I've seen Waxes.

- Long away?! Kate picked up.

- And when would you have gone far? Kirya answered for Rogov. “Don’t you know yourself, he runs so that the legless easily overtake him. Rog, how many of them are there and what do they do?

- I saw five, but I didn’t seem to see all of them. Judging by the noise, there are no more than a dozen of them. Passed by without noticing. Somewhere to the east they were moving.

- Shantrapa or someone serious?

“The spears are wide, like those of the swamp tribes, but on the backs are something like backpacks made of a wooden machine and ropes. They look good, I've never seen them like this.

“Well, we haven’t gotten here before. It turns out that there are some other tribes here, not from our amiable neighbors. Didn't you see the coloring book? Or tattoos?

- Not. I was afraid to catch their eyes, sat out until they passed by, so I saw only their backs in the thickets. Get up, get back.

Sphene performed his professional duties: sitting on the bank of a stream, he washed the soil poured with the same wooden spatula in a wooden tray, after which he studied clean, pebbles shiny from moisture. Rogov, approaching, patiently waited until he got out of the water, and asked:

- Well, how is it?

- It's hard to say right now. But there are some prospects.

Did you find ore?

- Not really.

- Then what are the prospects?

- Somewhere nearby, the breeds are changing. Unusual picture. I mean different from the old one. Where we settled down, there is nothing interesting. Standard and boring classical sedimentary sequence: limestones, sandstones, siltstones and mudstones. All this may also be of interest, but not in our situation.

“But it seems like you came across ore there.

- Rare grains of hydroxides from nodules, such raw materials are rare there, even for one heat they have never been collected, and the quality is highly doubtful.

- You already said that.

"Then why are you asking?"

- Consolidating the acquired knowledge.

- It's commendable.

- And then. So what's wrong with the local breeds? I climbed over the hill, where they come to the surface. In appearance, they do not differ from ours.

- Right. Judging by the slopes of the stream, there are no geological differences from our places.

But you just said...

Don't confuse me, it's simple. Here, where we stand now, yes, there is no difference. But in the stream occasionally there are samples of rocks that I have not seen anywhere in our country. That is, the water brought them from the upper reaches.

- The river, along which we descended from the mountains, also brought a lot of things to the valley. And the waterfall has other rocks, you yourself said.

“There is nothing else there, just a steeply dipping sandstone bed. Very strong, silicified, so it remained a wall in the way of water. And those stones were also brought from the upper reaches, and I remember that you told how difficult it was to get out of there. And how far. The expedition to those places will take a very long time, and there will be difficulties with the organization of production. Well, if we're lucky, we'll find something there.

– The locals used to mine emeralds there.

“Emerald is an ore in itself.

“I thought it was a gem.”

- Actually, it's just green beryl, that is, beryllium can be mined from it, and it is also a metal.

- Will we get beryllium?

“Don’t even think about it, we don’t have such technologies, and besides, the poison is the most terrible. With beryl, a lot of things can be found together. Rare metals, other gems, mica, ornamental and building stone. Everything is not what we need, although it is impossible to say for sure.

- How not? Rogov almost jumped. We really need metals.

Yeah, but not rare. By them is meant the group that we definitely do not need. At least in the coming years. Here, let's say, what are you going to do with niobium?

- I do not know. I have never held it in my hands.

– Have you heard about vacuum metallurgy?

- Edge of the ear.

"Can you fix it here?" On our wood-bone technologies?

- I doubt.

- Well, then why do you need tantalum raw materials?

- So all these rare metals are not so easy to extract from the ore?

- You think right. In this stream there are pebbles from igneous rocks. Small, well-rounded, so it was most likely brought from afar. But if there igneous bodies were introduced into our sedimentary strata, rich in limestone, good options may turn up.

- Imagine magma, a heated melt, in which there is nothing, the entire periodic table is present. And it is embedded underground between layers of sandstone and limestone. It turns out natural metallurgical production, sometimes it comes to the formation of deposits of relatively pure native iron. These are also known here, in the same Greenland. All sorts of options are obtained, including very uninteresting ones. But usually it doesn’t come to native iron, it’s still exotic, if it is formed somewhere, it doesn’t live long. But do not be upset, other options will suit us. Have you heard of Magnitogorsk?

- Chelyabinsk region?

- He is. Do you know about Magnetic Mountain?

- I heard. A metallurgical plant was built there because of her. Rich iron ore, magnetic rocks and all that.

- And there are the same rocks as under our village - the sedimentary strata. The same limestones with sandstones and other things. And large deposits of iron were formed at the contacts of these limestones with magmatic bodies.

- It's clear. It turns out that we need to rise to the upper reaches?

“We have no idea where exactly the places we need are located. But you're right, you have to go up and look at the bus stops, which is interesting in the creek.

“We saw Waxes over the hill.

- Did they see you?

- Hardly. Just passed by.

“We already knew that we could stumble upon them anywhere, so you didn’t tell me anything new. But you are in command of the detachment, so it's up to you to decide whether we go on or go back.

- Except common words can you say anything? Well, at least some kind of guarantee to give? We came here for ore, not for adventure.

Sphene breathed in:

- I'm already tired of explaining that geology is an inexact science. It works with probabilities, not hard facts. There are positive prerequisites, and so far you will not hear anything from me.

“You know perfectly well that we need metal badly.

- Yes, Rogov, I understand you, but you understand me too: if he is not in these parts at all, then at least a hundred of people like me, bring in - it will not help.

Yes, I understand you too. We are generally on another planet, here our own laws, earthly rules may not work.

- Why do you think so? Our chemistry is the same here.

- Sure?

Are we still alive? What is a person in essence? Chemical reactor, that's all. Since the laws are the same here and there, the chemistry of the planetary interior does not differ. Here, look. See? Rusty patches can be seen in this piece of sandstone. The same minerals containing iron. In fact, it is also ore. But for us it is not suitable, the content is scanty. We have no opportunity to enrich such poor raw materials. But on the other hand, we know for sure that there is iron here. It is everywhere, we just need to find a place where we are satisfied with its concentration. That is, a deposit or even a small ore occurrence, with our requests, will last for a long time. We will definitely find it, the only question is timing.

Everyone wants to be faster.

– And me including.

- This stream can be called a river. In some places it spills four meters or more. This one can leak.

“Where it comes from, I don’t know.

- Okay, we'll have to go up, and there we'll think along the way. But if something is wrong, we will immediately turn around. They climbed too far from their own, became insolent. We can run into. There are only twelve of us, and how many Waxes are here is unknown.

- You can also run into the village.

- Here you are right. But here, away from him, running into more dangerous.

Chapter 2

Aibolit, the permanent cook of the detachment, conjured over the fire, watching the fish strung on twigs, all caught in the same stream. Here, its waters flowed in a gorge carved among piles of stones of various sizes. At one time, they did not slide into the channel of their own accord, breaking off the slopes of the hills squeezing the valley. The human hand is at work here.

The collective efforts of hundreds or thousands of people led to the fact that on the starboard side of the valley a long deep incision was formed. Miners of antiquity mined something valuable that came to the surface in this place. Having chosen easily accessible reserves, they were forced to begin to go deeper for the remaining ones, and over time a pack of useless rocks began to hang over them. Had to get busy extra work so that all this goodness does not fall on their hunched backs. Interfering soil was dismantled with picks and shovels, wheelbarrows, or somehow dragged down, dropping from a high river terrace. Over time, human activity led to the formation of an extended dump that blocked the way to water. But if she rose above this dam, then not for long. Too loose a barrier, it is not difficult to carve a new path through such a barrier, the level quickly dropped, not a trace of the lake was left.

Rogov, having settled down on a comfortable block, with a tiny balcony hanging over the waters of a stream that had spread widely in this place, was busy replenishing food supplies. In the absence of normal preservatives, it is not easy to store food in shoulder bags and baskets. Moreover, the basis of the diet of earthlings was the gifts of reservoirs and game, before developed Agriculture they still plow and plow. So far, there can be no talk of any cereals and other products that can be easily dispensed with without a refrigerator. Fed up with rhubarb and the same boring roots of the most ordinary-looking burdock - that's the whole plant diet, it's problematic to fully live on this.

In general, on long trips, for the most part, I had to rely on pasture - after all, you won’t be able to carry much with you.

A piece of fishing line with a bunch of pheasant feather trimmings cunningly imposed, a hook and a stick broken out in the nearest thickets of the ubiquitous hazel - that's the whole fishing rod. The local fish can be deceived without any bait. She is not yet familiar with human deceit and is not afraid of it to such an extent that the most careless can be fed out of hand.

A wave of the rod, a feather fly falls near a boulder in the current, the jet picks it up, carries it past a stone, from under which a swift shadow is instantly taken out. Hooking, the changeable weight of a desperately fluttering fish, slowly, so as not to once again load the precious fishing line, the prey reaches the shore - and now Rogov puts his raking hand into action and, with notes of joy in his voice, informs Aibolit:

“They are big in this stream.

- Yeah, in the past it was a trifle, as if the capelin was underdeveloped. It’s good that Sfen didn’t find anything there, otherwise I would have bothered to gut and fry these fry. Listen, Rogov, you tell Kat to help me.

– What is it?

- Well, why all the time I am for a cook? The most extreme, right? In a good way, in fact, women always cook.

Kirya came up and clapped the permanent cook on the shoulder:

“Don’t burden our great leader with such stupid rubbish. And anyway, best friend of animals, do you know that the most famous chefs in the whole world are men? Do not trust? And you go to any decent restaurant and ask who their chef is. ABOUT! And this one is already ready, beautifully browned, I will take it for myself, I persuaded it.

- Where?! And the rest?! Removed hands!

- Are you sorry about the fish for almost your best friend? Yes, there is a whole stream of it here, you can’t be so greedy. Come to your senses, do not lose your human appearance because of such nonsense. Rogov, some kind of gloomy Sphen walks there. It looks like he's about to hang himself.

- Hardly. He is a life lover.

“In that case, it looks like we’re in for another meeting right here with a well-known gentleman named Oblom.”

- I do not know. There are a lot of rust spots on the stones. Sfen says it's very good sign.

“Then why the hell did we get carried so far?” Without leaving the village, I could haul half a carload of this rust for him. Or is she something special? Well, like chronic prostatitis heals or marvelous visions with excessive smoking causes. What's wrong with her?

– I didn’t think of smoking rust.

- I give an idea, use it, coffin your health. If it's not mine, I'm not sorry.

- Thanks to.

“Kate and I wandered through the forest, which is higher. I told her poems about platonic love and the exploits of the Vietnamese communists, but Kat is Kat, there is no more romance in her than in a toilet bowl. Here I am ruined by a nightingale, and she wanted to kill a pheasant, such an unusual woman.

- Killed? Aibolit tensed, suspecting that he would have to pluck and gut his prey.

- I didn’t kill a damn thing, he, carrion, for some reason was against it. Oh, I'll tell you how draped from us! Where are those ostriches.

- E! Kirya! You've already carried off the second fish! Removed hands! Got it already!

“Be glad that at least someone appreciates your stinking cooking.” You must thank me to the grave, but I do you a great honor. Well, Rogov, my studies in poetry did not prevent me from noticing some details of the landscape, and I think they are unlikely to make you happy. The fact that there are traces of bears, like cow dung in the native village of Kuzmich, is a trifle that you are unlikely to be able to upset. But the fact that there is a clearing with a large fire and the skulls of these same bears on sticks is already much more unpleasant. And I want to say that there are not only bear skulls. There are enough of everyone, including the worst ones.

Kirya nodded.

“Two human pieces, I won’t confuse them with anything.” But you can’t tell from the bones whether it’s ours or locals, because there shouldn’t be any differences.

– What else did you see?

– There is nothing more interesting, but the fireplace is fresh, totem poles are around, people often appear there. I'm talking about waxes.

- I understood.

- Dangerous place.

- Is not a fact. It may come in handy for us. In them, women are forbidden to look at totem poles, so glades with them are arranged far from the villages. That is, you can run into waxes here only if you stumble upon a group of hunters or on a holiday, when they come in a crowd to dance around a ritual fire.

- Oh, Rogov, you started to rejoice too early. Here are the swamp waxes of holidays - that of a professional alkonaut. That is, every day of the calendar is red. How they manage to fight in such cases and turn everything else around, I can’t understand. As for the locals, we don't know at all. Suddenly they have the same cheerful orders?

“We are waiting for the rest of the scouts, and no one leaves the camp a single step without my permission. And take out the knife, sit down and clean the fish, since you have already eaten half. Compensate for the losses caused by diligent work.

- O-pa! That's the news! This is why I need such an unexpected outfit in the kitchen ?! For a couple of some lousy fish?!

“He ate three,” Aibolit, who was vitally interested in helping, immediately chimed in.

"Shut up, unfortunate zoophile!" Eh, Rogov-Rogov, but I sincerely considered you my true friend. And this is after I carried you out of such snows, where even Santa Claus himself tap danced with his teeth on a sunny afternoon.

“I don’t remember you ever wearing me.

- Don't be naughty, nerd. And give me a knife.

- You have yours.

“Mine is not good for fish. Better to clean with your nails than this squalor. Or are you so up in arms against me that you are ready to doom me to such torments?

- Oh, just back off. And hurry with the fish, it's time to feed the people.

Rogov found Sphena on a pile of stones, which he, one after another, heartily beat with a hammer. The heart bled, looking at this: after all, the instrument is heavy, iron, in modern times worth its weight in gold, if not more expensive. But with each such blow, it deforms a little and loses crumbs of precious metal flying away from microscopic chips.

And not only microscopic.

- So how is it? Successfully?

He shook his head.

“If all careers here are like this, then we have wasted our time. Everything is useless, complete zero, we are only wasting time.

- Is something wrong again?

Do you even know what they were mining here?

– No, but I think you will tell about it now.

Rogov, I was right. Here and the truth is the output of igneous rocks. More precisely, not quite here, in the sense, not in this very place. How can I explain to you… In general, yes, the local limestone was warmed up in its time so that it can no longer be called limestone. An increase in temperature or pressure for one reason or another can lead to rock metamorphism. There was limestone, and now another breed has turned out. There is no iron here, and we will not get hold of other metals either.

- So I did not understand. What exactly did they mine here then?

- Marble, Rogov. They quarried marble here. I'm even surprised, because it's not only not up to Carrara - it's not at all. We are embarrassed to use this dregs even for marble chips.

“Maybe there wasn’t another around.

- I do not know.

- And what, besides marble, is there nothing at all here?

“Don't you see what I'm doing?

- Breaking rocks.

- Subtle observation.

- And how are you doing?

“To be honest, I’ll cripple the hammer in vain, we don’t see normal ore here, as a bright future. Volumes are needed, not rare mineralogical samples.

“Give it up, we’re about to sit down to dinner.” The scouts have almost all returned.

- Not the best news.

- Agree.

“It’s even good that no ore was found here. Otherwise, before development, we would have to solve the issue with waxing, and we couldn’t even close it at home.

Sfen is 100% right. Despite the fact that the population of the village exceeded four and a half hundred, this did not remove the threat of attack from the agenda. Since the time of the latter, a lot of water has flowed under the bridge, but the combat detachments of troglodytes did not leave earthlings alone, roaming a few kilometers from the confluence of two rivers, where people from the cold mountains settled down. They were afraid to approach closer, because several times they were arranged for minor and major troubles, but they did not finally repulse the desire to feast on human flesh.

The management feared the worst possible scenario. So far, the waxes are divided, even within the same tribe, neighboring settlements can be at odds with each other for a variety of reasons: from the theft of a particularly fat bride, whom the loving leader had views of, to the unfair division of the meat and bones of a jointly driven elk.

With other tribes, they could be in allied relations or be at enmity not for life, but for death, trade in simple goods, or simply ignore. But not so long ago, a situation happened when a relatively large group of people ended up in these parts. There were about four dozen of them, including well-armed men familiar with military affairs. They easily smashed several settlements and founded their own in the hope of sowing fields, wintering, harvesting and after that continue their long journey, bypassing some incomprehensible Grindir.

Unfortunately, the Waxes had other ideas about this. Waiting for late autumn, they gathered the warriors of several tribes and went on a raid under the cover of the lingering downpours that are common at this time of the year. The number of attackers and surprise made it possible to win a crushing victory. All the men were killed, only a few women and children survived. They were left as booty by the savages. But they did not make them slaves without rights, but allowed them to live relatively independently, paying for the saved lives with nets and primitive fabric - all this was made from local grass with strong fibers. Growing boys were killed, not allowed to grow up: the memory of warriors in iron and with metal weapons is too fresh. Let them come a little, but managed to shed a sea of ​​​​blood.

Sphene made a mistake or made a simplification: in the mentioned region, the native iron deposit is located on Disko Island (off the coast of Greenland).

High quality marble from the Apuan Alps in Carrara. It is considered one of the most valuable varieties of marble. Known since antiquity. Great sculptors and architects have worked with him since ancient times.

The previous book in the cycle set me in a major mood. The author actually rebooted the story of the Border River by starting to describe the adventures of a completely new group of earthlings, not connected in any way with the heroes of the first four novels. The entry of our compatriots into the highlands, the struggle for existence in an icy hell, the transition through glaciers and the first skirmishes with waxes - all this turned out very well for Kamenisty and I expected that the next book would be done at the same level. I was badly mistaken. It is immediately felt that "Return to the Heights" was written in a hurry.

Despite the abundance of events, the plot of the work is frankly marking time, since throughout the entire novel the characters are only engaged in running from one end of the map to the other. Forests and hills, mountains and glaciers, forests and swamps replace each other with kaleidoscopic speed. However, the problem is not even in these endless journeys from point A to point B, but in the fact that everything is written about everything in a very schematic way. They quickly ran to a new location, quickly hated all the enemies, quickly joined another group of earthlings, quickly fled to the Village - all this is a rather dry account of the events that took place. When reading a number of episodes, no effect of presence simply arose, everything was so hastily and sloppily written.

A separate drawback of the book is the dialogues. First, there are too many of them. Sometimes the exchange of remarks lasts whole pages with a minimum of benefit to the plot. Secondly, these dialogues are almost completely impersonal. The characters speak so alike that sometimes you have to return to the beginning of the conversation two or three times in order to simply count the paragraphs and understand which of the characters belongs to this or that phrase. And yes, the author's attempts to joke with the lips of Kiri were unsuccessful, and this is the third drawback of the dialogues. When the speech of one of the most talkative characters in the novel is 80% verbal diarrhea, which the author carefully transfers to the pages of the book, this cannot but affect the overall impression of the work.

Bottom line: at the moment this is one of the weakest books in the series. "Return to the Heights" is an absolutely passing novel, in which there is nothing for which I would like to say thank you to the author. In general, recently Kamenisty has published a number of books under his own name, the quality of which leaves much to be desired. It is very disappointing to see how the author, whom you have always considered a strong professional, always trying to keep the bar of his works sufficiently high level, switched to the in-line production of hack-work, as a result of which this bar collapsed sharply down.

P.S. By the way, it will not be so easy to cross the plot of the vbokvel and the original, as it was already suggested here. Let me remind you that the history of the first four novels covers the events of about four years after the fall of the meteorite and no Rogov group exists in it. The end of "Return to the Heights" fell at the very beginning of the autumn of the first year after the transfer. At the same time, Oleg and his comrades on the Argo went downstream Freona to buy tools and clothes that were so necessary for earthlings in human states. Thus, unless the author misses significant periods of time in his narrative and does not resort to miserable plot tricks from the series “this group of earthlings was transferred from the Earth with a delay of five years after the main mass of the fallen”, then Kamenisty will have to write God knows how much more books to compare the chronology of the events of this sub-cycle with the main series.

Score: 6

On the one hand, this is the world of the Border River, which I quite liked, the author’s hit + robinzoinade is very good. On the other hand, this is a side-by-side, that is, a story that does not intersect with the first tetralogy in plot, taking place at the same time.

But if in the books of the first tetralogy there was the development of the plot, the theater of action, the scale .... then in the first two books there is nothing of this in the box, small local movements ... although there are adventures, they hardly advance the storyline.

Again, from the claims: only GG and Kirya are normally spelled out, more or less Kat, Kholod (although little space is given to him on the pages). The rest are not spelled out in any way, the same trouble with the environment, if I could easily imagine any village from the first tetralogy when reading, then in this book my imagination just stalls, it’s impossible to clearly imagine what the village is like .. .

The book could have been pulled by a more upbeat narrative that spans a longer time frame....to

Spoiler (plot reveal)

take and make an intersection of the plot of the end of the second book in a sidebar with the 4th book of the original, a meeting of detachments of settlers there ... and already in the next book, the storylines merge into one - to continue the story, but no, the book ends with nothing. And it looks very ugly, it's like trying to sell the same product a second time without changing anything in it ... if the next book in the series ends with the same zilch, then I will be very disappointed ....

Based on the shortcomings described, I will give this book no more than 6 points. There would be a different ending (as suggested above in the spoiler) would give 8.

Score: 6

There was an unpleasant aftertaste from the read continuation of the cycle “Border River”. With full confidence I can say that the cycle has slipped into a banal income from replicating monotonous and repetitive novels. The characters have lost their unique individuality and charisma. The main character - Rogov, sometimes causes complete bewilderment in quick wits and actions. His comrade Kirya, on his fingers, is trying to explain to him the truths that are already clear to everyone. Which takes sooo much time and unnecessary chatter, distracting and annoying. An even bigger question is the behavior of the council, which has settled in the main camp and does not want to move anywhere! And this is after all the misadventures and trials of the fallen, I DO NOT BELIEVE!!! The only respect of all the characters is only Cold, but the author devoted quite a bit of time to him, perhaps in the next parts it will get better, we'll see. In conclusion, I want to note that the storyline in the novel is completely absent, what we learned from the first novels is repeated, so to speak, to consolidate, which is not at all encouraging. Passing romance and nothing more.

Score: 6

The novel is quite in the spirit of the first five books of the cycle: adventures, adventures and more adventures. Again a small colony of earthlings, doomed to survive in an unfamiliar world, again long-distance expeditions and the gradual accumulation of knowledge about the surrounding reality, again constant skirmishes with enemies: waxes, trills, raxes ..

It is interesting to read, especially since the topic is very advantageous, but, subjectively, the book still looks a little less exciting than the previous volumes of the cycle. And there is clearly more than one reason. This and some monotony / repetition of the events described - after all, after all, and this is the sixth book of the cycle, consider the same thing. This is also the fact that in the novel there was practically only one hero - Rogov, and two accompanying characters - Kirya, who frankly suffers from verbal diarrhea, and the silent Kat. And all communication in the book is 90% cooked in this one and the same triangle.

And this, of course, is completely unnatural, evoking the thought of crafts with its opportunistic focus on the next book, the final conversation between Rogov and Kat. The conversation in which she

Spoiler (plot reveal) (click on it to see)

informs Rogov about his cancerous tumor and that, according to the natives, there are pebbles in Greenadier ...

This episode looks so far-fetched, so sloppy and out of line with the rest of the story, that it immediately spoils the reader's attitude to this, in general, not a bad book.

Score: 7

Pretty good production novel. Rogov, the commander of the reconnaissance and assault detachment of the popadans, wanders around the map with his eagles here and there, then back, smashing Waxes and Haites, as well as Bigfoot.

Spoiler (plot reveal) (click on it to see)

Quest number 1 - return to the place where you hit the mountains for iron and other goodies. Found people there, helped to go down. Then a lot of other interesting things, and so it went on ...

The story is pretty monotonous. Neither internal nor external conflicts are clearly spelled out, although they exist. Love lines and intra-group problems, desirable love lines in a production novel are also absent. Mainly resolved technical problems robinsonade. In general, the plot is linear, the description is schematic, much worse than the previous one.

True, love and real goals begin at the end, but the text breaks off at the very beginning.

Score: 6

I don’t even know how to write it correctly: the sixth book of the cycle, or the second book of the sub-cycle?

After reading the first (or, more correctly, 5), the impression left was that it was not a book, but a huge chapter to a book. I will not hide:

from this, the sixth in a row expected more, that the storylines would intersect or there would be at least a trend towards this - he was waiting in vain. "Return to the Heights"

is also not perceived as an independent book, it does not leave the feeling that this is a very stretched second chapter, a fragment snatched from a large work.

The plot is still more than modest, of course, as in the 5th book for summary it will take more than 2 lines, but 5 will still really fit.

It didn’t become clear with the characters either, if in the previous book it would be more correct to call them “not traced”, then “cardboard” has already come into play. Neither characters nor

features, at best, one distinguishing feature: a funny saying, silence or talkativeness and all in the same vein.

Despite all this, the book is quite easy to read, although it is perceived as unnecessarily stretched. It becomes more and more interesting, what did the author want?

Score: 5

Return to the heights

Border River - 6

By blind chance, they ended up infinitely far from home, in a world where there are no maps and geography textbooks, and only crumbs can be learned from the natives, and even those are often implausible. Everything else has to be comprehended by practice - on long hikes, expanding the explored area further and further, which does not look like a city park at all ... There are more than enough different threats here, and new ones are added to already known enemies, and they are much more dangerous. At the same time, the most elementary is missing, and therefore any metal object is priceless. Why is there metal, you can’t even send a worn and torn rag to a landfill, because you can’t buy a new one in a store.

But there is one place where you can get hold of metal, and clothes, and medicines - there is plenty of everything. But the trip there is so dangerous and difficult that it promises to outshine all other expeditions.

The fallen have been transported to another world and scattered along the banks of a huge river. The crown of evolution is a man, who he will become here: food for the cannibal tribes, a laborer for the "feudal-civilized" local states, dumb working cattle for the Hayts, the mysterious and powerful masters of the new world, or, using his knowledge and skills, he will become a new force, forcing reckon with yourself?

Stony A. Return to the heights: fantasy novel/ Rice. on the cover of I. Voronin - M .: "ALFA-BOOK Publishing House", 2016. - 314 p.: ill. - (Fantastic action movie-1013)
7bts Format 84x108/32 Circulation 8,500 copies.
ISBN 978-5-9922-2254-8 Attention! You are downloading an excerpt permitted by law and the copyright holder (no more than 20% of the text). After reviewing, you will be prompted to go to the website of the copyright holder and purchase full version works.

By blind chance, they ended up infinitely far from home, in a world where there are no maps and geography textbooks, and only crumbs can be learned from the natives, and even those are often implausible. Everything else has to be comprehended by practice - on long hikes, expanding the explored area further and further, which does not look like a city park at all ... There are more than enough different threats here, and new ones are added to already known enemies, and they are much more dangerous. At the same time, the most elementary is missing, and therefore any metal object is priceless. Why is there metal, you can’t even send a worn and torn rag to a landfill, because you can’t buy a new one in a store.

But there is one place where you can get hold of metal, and clothes, and medicines - there is plenty of everything. But the trip there is so dangerous and difficult that it promises to outshine all other expeditions.

Artem Kamenisty

RETURN TO THE HEIGHTS

Chapter 1

The mushroom was excellent. An unreasonably thick leg, a hat of such impressive dimensions that it will not fit entirely in every pan. They say about such record holders as if they were about apples: “poured”. You don't even have to touch it to know how tight it is. If only the worms did not have time to get to the handsome forest. Although even with them you can put up with if their number does not go off scale. It turns out with an admixture of meat, that's all. Even those who previously turned up their noses only at the hint of such a treat, now they will gladly gobble up everything on both cheeks. Dramatically changed life quickly forced us to abandon many principles, including gastronomic ones.

Rogov climbed this slope not at all for the sake of a quiet hunt, but he could not resist: he sat down over the handsome man, took out a thin flint plate inserted into a handle made of wood and tarred plant fibers, began to try on the base of the leg, but froze when he heard a suspicious noise. Below and to the left, under a low ledge, bristling with angular protrusions of wild stone, someone was walking. And his gait was not like an animal.

Crouching over the mushroom, Rogov lost the height from which one can see who is stomping there. But he, in turn, will not be able to see him now. And he is even in a worse position, because there was no sense from the ears: after all, Rogov did not make a sound.

He was in no hurry to get up. Of course, it is interesting to see who the devils brought here, but the last months of a dramatically changed life taught Rogov not to rush to show himself to the whole district without special need. Judging by the noise, there is not a single pedestrian, but a group. Maybe there were ten of them, and he was alone, and who knows who he is dealing with now and what is on their minds.

The situation was aggravated by the fact that Rogov knew for sure that none of his own should be here. A group of explorers, having gone deep into the eastern foothills, reached this place a couple of hours ago, and all the fighters were on the other side of the hill. Rogov, violating his own strict instructions not to move away from his comrades, climbed here alone.

It happened by accident. Initially, I planned to just go to the top and appreciate the views. But there the view was hindered by bushes and placers of gnarled pines, I had to cross over to the other side and walk farther and farther in search of a clearing with a convenient view. At the same time, every minute I told myself that here, another hundred steps - and it's time to turn around. But he did not stop at the measured one, all the time it seemed that over there, below, in a few meters, a bald patch suitable for observation began.

In general, I got unhealthy carried away and moved away from the top for a kilometer, if not more. And here I came across this mushroom, which made me sit down and thereby avoid the likelihood of being discovered.

Earthlings have not yet explored these regions. Too far from their lands - almost two days' journey if moving slowly. With the current pedestrian life - a huge distance. But where can you not climb in order to get hold of what they lack in life - metal. If at first they were set on at least the crappiest iron ore, now they agree to anything. Even if it's just soft copper. This is good for waxers, with a few sharp blows they turn a shapeless flint pebble into a stone knife blade, and people have long lost the habit of primitive technologies, give them completely different materials.

And who likes to cut meat with a stone?

There are plenty of difficulties in the way of obtaining metal. To begin with, in the entire settlement, only one person imagined what ore was, how it looked, where and how it could be found. The times are such that, whoever you spit on, you find yourself in an office worker, infinitely far from mining. It just so happened that in the part of the city that flew here, there were practically no industrial facilities and educational institutions with the appropriate staff and students. Sergei, or, as it is now customary to call him, Sphen, was formerly a candidate of mineralogical sciences, although this information is not completely verified, from someone else's lips, he himself modestly kept quiet about the source of his considerable knowledge. But here no one cares about the authenticity of diplomas and other "crusts" - if only they don't spoil it over and over again, and single mistakes are excusable.

This book is part of a series of books: