Nikolay Lakutin
Quest. The Drummer's Soul. All the parts. Complete collection

Quest. The Drummer's Soul. All the parts. Complete collection
Nikolay Lakutin

I asked the wisest: "What have you learned From your manuscripts?"– The wisest said: "Happy is the one who is in the arms of a tender beauty At night, you are far from the wisdom of books!» All the events, organizations and characters are the author's invention. Any coincidence of names, surnames and positions of characters with the real names of living or dead people, as well as events that occurred with someone in life, is absolutely accidental and completely unintentional.

Quest. The drummer's soul. Part 1

The zoo was in an unprecedented state of excitement. Animals crawled out of cages with the arrival of heat, people missed the long winter hiding in burrows representatives of fauna. A tall guy walked slowly through the rows. People intuitively dispersed themselves without noticing freeing up the road in front of him, and the animals seeing him ran away to their holes and booths. The lion crouched in a corner when the strange citizen stopped at his enclosure.

"Nice dog," he said, smiling contentedly, and went to the door…

"Well, well… another equally tall man in dark glasses noted as he watched the scene, then made a few notes in a notebook and got lost in the crowd…


Captivating rhythms resounded from the main square of the city. They completely captured the attention of all those who heard them even from afar. People were rapidly gathering around the lone drummer who had merged in a single dance of body and space with rhythms flying out from under his sticks. These rhythms sounded so exciting and rich, as if they had some diabolical seductive power that you can't fight, that you can't resist. People around the drummer became more and more, cars stopped at the roadsides, on the balconies of buildings located in the hearing zone, companies jostled. Open mouths, admiring glances and these overtaking each other emissions of energy, which were mercilessly distributed to the space by a young guy-virtuoso…

And suddenly, in an instant, everything was quiet. The drummer abruptly cut the song short before playing it to the end. Not immediately began to be heard annoyed exclamations, the audience was eager to continue. The drummer sat motionless, frozen in an awkward position with sticks in his hands. Gradually, he began to make barely visible movements, as if extricating himself from the inside of the web. His movements were slow, somewhat jelly-like. He finally lowered his hands, smoothly straightened his back, and, with difficulty turning his head to a normal position, said loudly, closing his eyes:

"If you do that again, I'll stick these sticks in you, you know where." And I'll do this!

The drummer beat a rapid beat, then turned around.

– Hello, Tikhon. I'm sorry, I didn't think you were still falling for these tricks, " the man in dark glasses said.

– In order to play like this, you have to be open, and when I'm open, I'm vulnerable. We will talk not here, – the guy-virtuoso answered. He nodded to a nearby van and left the tool and went with the waiting man. The van pulled up in front of the parting crowd, and two people began to quickly put the equipment in the car. The crowd began to disperse, and the parked cars continued on their way.


"Why did you come?" the drummer asked, sitting in the passenger compartment of a luxury car.

The man behind the wheel took off his sunglasses, put them on the dashboard, and turned off the ignition. There was a hazy emptiness around the car. This place was called the Bay. Random people rarely appeared here, since the area was quite remote from the city, and the vowel was only "for their own".

"I've got a new horse," the driver said, patting the steering wheel.

The drummer was silent, waiting for an answer, his eyes fixed on the window.

– Tikhon, I need your help.

"You personally or the order?" the guy asked, not taking his eyes off the window.

– The task is set by the order, but my interest in this is also there.

The drummer grunted significantly and got out of the car. The driver also left the cabin and went after the guy.

"You know, Vahe, I don't help occult communities, none of them," the guy said calmly, not turning around, knowing that the driver was following him.

"I know, but I also know that there is no way out of the order. Those who are not with us are against us.

"Are you here to remind me of this?" Bartholomew decided that I would comply with his request, fearing retribution, as you call it.

– Tikhon… you're not a stupid person. I found you, and they will find you. Maybe you shouldn't fight with those who gave you everything.

The drummer turned and stared into his opponent's eyes. This look carried great power and no less danger.

"I'm just passing it on," Vahe said, raising his hands peaceably.

– You have a worthy opponent, and you decided to push the heads of those who are dangerous to the order. I recognize Bartholomew's methods. What do… you passed it on, I heard it.

"Will you pass something back?" asked in the back of the departing drummer Vahe.

The drummer turned again.

– In response… Look, " he pointed at the car, running his index finger down it, then closing his index finger with his thumb and separating them.

The car split into two equal halves, as if cut by an invisible laser along the hull.

– Tell them that Tikhon is still in shape, don't play with me. I love the world, I build the world… but I can fight better than anyone!

The drummer turned and left.

– Why did you ask? Vahe said irritably, peering inside the sprawled body of the car…

He took his sunglasses out of the car, put them on, smiled, and disappeared into thin air.


Gideon returned from the zoo to his rented apartment in a good mood. Fifteen years of study in seclusion were not in vain. He would probably have forgotten how to speak if he had not mastered the technique of knowledge that allows you to speak any language in the world without learning it by traditional methods. The language of animals, birds, and plants became the man's native language. The trip to the zoo was a kind of test. As he passed the cages, he heard the cries of animals, recognized them, translated them, and answered some quietly without attracting public attention. Intuitively, he instilled in them a brief sense of danger, so that people would not feel it. All the experiments were crowned with success. Gideon pretended not to notice the look on his face of a man from the order, but in fact he specifically declared himself to make certain disturbances in the retinue of Bartholomew, a man with whom fate had brought him together almost twenty years ago.


In those early years, orphans from all over the country were distributed among orphanages. The children did not know by whose will and unspoken order the entrance testing was conducted among all institutions of this type. Teachers evaluated the results according to a ready-made template, without going into details, the results were passed to the management. And those already in turn selected the persons interested in them, from new arrivals, and redirected them to the special block. The institution, called a special unit, had the formal status of an institution for the education of children with disabilities. In fact, children from all over the country were brought here not at all flawed. The tests performed in children's homes, allowed to identify the small percentage of children who had a special type of thinking. They were not Laggards, they were special children whose innate abilities and capabilities far exceeded even many adult representatives of the human race. The order of the Black hand was engaged in tracking such children and taking them under the control of a given ideology from an early age. In this occult community, children were given knowledge not available to most people. Ancient manuscripts hidden by the priests, intended to transmit knowledge to every person who came to this world through the heads of clans, chiefs, and fathers of families, were stolen and removed from the capitals of the ancient centers of culture, passing these manuscripts strictly among their followers of the inner circle of initiates from generation to generation. Thus, none of the States of the modern world has ever found the records that were mentioned in any prophecy. Archaeological expeditions managed to find a few grains of knowledge, but no one had a complete picture of the true state of Affairs. The order of the Black hand was one of the followers of a long-running race created by the priesthood, living among people like a state within a state whose influence has long been reversed. The founder of this order was a native of the inner circle of trusted families – Bartholomew. Each child brought to the order from an orphanage, this person met personally only once, on the first day of arrival. This man had only to look at the child to see that it belonged to a special type of people. Thus, the second stage of selection of children was performed in order to weed out those who gave the corresponding result in tests by mistake, accident or inattention. But those who were rejected by Bartholomew were not taken back to orphanages. These children were simply eliminated in the simplest, relatively humane way. They were taken to a separate block where hungry, road-weary children were given lunch. An hour after lunch, the children fell asleep and never woke up. They did not feel any pain or discomfort, the poison contained in the food was created using ancient technologies, the knowledge of which was also hidden. Initially, it was created for the voluntary departure of a person from life, since the ancient culture of the founders of this world provided for the right of a person to physical death. Anyone could have done it at any time. Either a child or an old man. And no one interfered with the individual's decision, because people knew that physical life on Earth is only a small part of the entire journey of the human essence. This poison quickly entered the body, did not have any taste, combined with any food, and stopped the activity of all internal organs in a short time without any visible and sensual consequences. Twenty-four hours after taking this poison, the body began to glow with a bright white light. The concentration of light was saturated until the body was completely hidden in this light, after which the glow stopped, closing at a point and disappearing with the body. Therefore, there were no burials before the theft of this knowledge by the priests. With the concealment of this "homecoming" technology, there was a business like funeral procedures. It quickly gained momentum and firmly established itself among the powerful of this world. This dynamic has continued to this day throughout the world.

Bartholomew, using this recipe, easily solved the problem of eliminating "defective" children. No one who saw the face of the master of the order could leave the community just like that. People who joined it either became devoted servants of the order and executors of the will of the Teacher-Abbot, or received their dose of the coveted powder.

Gideon was brought to the order from an orphanage, just like Vahe, Tikhon entered training two years earlier, but he was no longer a child, he turned seventeen on the day he crossed the border of the special unit. All of them passed the second stage of verification, and entered the location of the occult community, where they actively developed their innate abilities, receiving dosed primordial knowledge of their ancestors. Even Bartholomew did not have complete information about the manuscripts hidden by the priesthood; he was far from being in the first ranks of those who were close to the first circle, the guardians of the power of knowledge. The structure that was created many thousands of years ago has grown throughout the Earth, and controlled all structures and processes. Bartholomew was one of the lower layers of this structure, so he had only limited access to the archive, but this knowledge was enough to stand alone against a small country. Bartholomew was feared by all his subordinates, but not because of the poison that was always with him. He had such an inner strength that every native of the community, having a special sensitivity, understood and was very well aware of what this person is capable of.

In the entire history of the order, there were only a few attempts to terminate relations with it by adherents. But all of them ended dramatically. All, except one, who put the hope of salvation to the children elected to the orders. Tikhon became such a person. Before he left, he left a scar on the Abbot's face. Novices said that the human hand could not leave such a scar, that the imprint on Bartholomew's face was the punishment of the higher hierarchs who supervised everyone who set foot on the path of the power of knowledge. This, in turn, indicated that Tikhon had outgrown the Teacher. However, this was only talk.


– How did you manage to get out of the clan? Gideon reasoned to himself, remembering the pioneer in this matter – Tikhon.

The guy rented a dilapidated house on the outskirts of the city. He could afford to rent a decent apartment and even a princely mansion, but preferred a modest lifestyle. His arrival in the city was due to the fact that with new knowledge, strength and honed skill to put an end to the Order of the Black Hand. And this step was only the beginning of his outlined mission.

Gideon lay in the middle of the floor, comparing the facts of events during his stay in the order, preparing a plan to eliminate the Abbot-Bartholomew and regretted that his meeting with Tikhon never took place.

A knock on the door distracted him from his thoughts.

– Zoe? At home? Open it! I have a train in two hours, and I have a message for you…