The Universal Passenger Book 1. Someone Else

“Please, come in,” Sophia said, returning to the office and adjusting her already impeccably pressed lab coat as she sat in the chair. “How can I help you?”

“First of all, I’d like to apologize for yesterday,” Constantin began searching for the right words.

“No, I should be the one apologizing,” Sophia said, anxiously rubbing her hands together, mimicking human behavior when they’re upset. “I should have been more tactful and not meddled in things that aren’t my business. Besides, I really did like the painting.”

“Next time, I promise to behave more courteously,” Constantin smiled.

The heavy energy from his meeting with Sayana still lingered in the air, but he hadn’t come for that.

“Next time?” Sophia was surprised.

“If of course I haven’t scared you off,” Constantin hesitated. “I’d like to see you again, outside of this clinic.”

“Why not?” Sophia shrugged and he thought she seemed bored. “But this time I’ll choose the place for our meeting.”

“It’s settled then.” Constantin stood up to leave but suddenly remembered. “Can I have your number?”

“Of course. Is that why you came here?” she asked, dialing the number to call.

“Yes, I had to find some way to reach you, Sophia,” Constantin replied, feeling a bit shy.

The smartphone screen lit up with the precious call.

“Call me Sophie,” the girl smiled. “If you don’t mind, you can address me more casually.”

“Gladly,” he nodded and hurried to leave.

* * *

A week passed and Sophia still hadn’t called. Constantin waited patiently, comforting himself with thoughts that she had a lot of work. In the meantime, he painted and considered the concept for his next exhibition. He wrapped the painting of the twins in a blanket and stashed it in a distant corner, out of sight.

In the evenings, he met up with friends from the creative world. One of these friends invited him for a ride on a motorcycle to the waterfront. Constantin didn’t often use his iron steed. Perhaps it was due to the fear of getting carried away and losing track of speed, or maybe because he had made a promise to his parents long ago to sell it. But he never found the heart to part with his speedy friend.

Instead, he took him to a quiet enclosure behind the studio, away from onlookers. Now, as the cool sea air seeped through his helmet and filled his nostrils, he sped toward adventure, trying not to think about the girl for at least a couple of hours.

“Constantin!” his friend broke into a smile and waved.

“Hi, Max,” Constantin said, shaking his hand. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“How could I not? Good to see you, buddy,” Max said, turning to the two guys standing behind him. “Let me introduce you. This is Albert and Denis. They have their own photography studio.”

Constantin looked at them and nodded politely.

“What a cool motorcycle you have! The red paint looks bold,” Albert said, approaching the bike.

“And you can even control the navigation system without taking your hands off the handlebars!” Denis chimed in.

Constantin looked at the guys and smiled. Nothing took him back to childhood like toys, even if they were grown-up ones.

“Want to take a ride?” he offered.

“Of course! I’m driving,” Albert said, jumping onto the bike and putting on the helmet as he went.

“Alright, just don’t show off on the road,” Denis warned.

The guys sped off in a flash, while Van ordered a double espresso at a nearby café and returned to Max. He was a chubby guy of short stature, but he had a certain charisma that shone through at times. When Constantin was in the clinic, Max was the only one who didn’t pry into his personal life, never criticized or judged him. A priceless quality these days. And it was Max who had accidentally found Constantin on the floor that day.

“So, what are you up to now, my friend?” he asked, scratching his left eye. It seemed he just couldn’t get used to the contact lenses.

“You know me. I’m painting, spending long hours in the studio.”

“Sorry that I didn’t come to the exhibition. I was on a business trip. I hope you took photos of the paintings before selling them?” Max sighed sincerely.

Constantin always painted in one copy, so his paintings never lived in two places at once.

“Of course. I couldn’t leave you without news,” Constantin chuckled, lightly punching him in the shoulder. “By the way – speaking of news – I met someone.”

“Now that’s interesting. Who is she?” His friend immediately got to the point.

“You’ll laugh, but she’s my doctor. Not the best candidate for a relationship, I know.”

“Well, why not?” Max laughed. “Keep the most important things close at hand, as they say. It’ll be good for both the soul and the body.”

“You’re always joking,” Constantin replied, appreciating the tease.

While they chatted, time flew by, and the guys on the bike returned.

Denis jumped off the motorcycle like he’d been scalded, adjusting his curly, unruly hair as he went.

“I told you not to show off,” he scolded Albert, who, with a triumphant look, handed Constantin the helmet. “You almost made my heart jump out of my chest.”

“But it didn’t jump out,” his friend retorted. “Next time, don’t hold on to me like a girl.”

“What, like a girl? Oh, you!”

Denis kicked Albert and they engaged in a playful scuffle.

Constantin finished his invigorating coffee and went to toss the paper cup in the trash.

It was already quite dark on the waterfront and the streetlights had come on. This was his favorite time, when the sea, with its calm, barely noticeable waves, marked the end of the day. Turning his head toward the benches, he saw her.

The graceful silhouette of the girl stood out against the backdrop of the evening sunset.

She was sitting on the bench, reading something on her tablet while adjusting her hair, which the breeze was swirling around. A moment later, Sophia took a hairpin from the pocket of her gray blazer and neatly twisted her hair into a bun. She set the tablet aside and looked in Constantin's direction, as if expecting to see him there.

He approached her.

“What a coincidence.”

“For some reason, I’m not surprised, Constantin,” Sophia replied. “The evening waterfront is perfect for a stroll after a long day. Oh, right – you like to work after sunset.”

He looked at her and noticed her tired appearance. It seemed she had been quite busy.

“I didn’t want to bother you after our last meeting. But I must admit, it wasn’t easy,” he said, sitting down on the bench next to her.

“Why wasn’t it easy?” Ephor furrowed her brows.

“God, Sophie,” Libby rolled her eyes, settling down next to her on the railing. “When you’re human, it’s natural to feel things. Every event shapes your mood.”

“Right, I promised to call,” Ephor continued, not waiting for an answer from Van, who was staring at her. “So much work piled up. And complicated clinical cases at work. I’m sorry.”

“I understand. Every day feels like sitting on a powder keg,” Van tried to joke.

“Exactly,” she nodded, her voice devoid of laughter.

Sophia looked at him with her sapphire eyes, and Constantin noted that he had never seen such a shade before. They seemed to glow from within, giving her irises a vibrant brightness.

“But since we’ve run into each other, maybe we could take a walk?”

“Constantin!” the guys called out to him, interrupting the moment.

“Are your friends?” Sophia nodded toward the approaching guys.

“More like acquaintances. Let me introduce you to them.”

He stood up and gestured to the guys who had come over.

“This is Max, my old friend. And these are Albert and Denis. We just met today.”

“Not only did you buy yourself such a badass bike, but you also kept a beautiful girl hidden!” Albert exclaimed, shaking Sophia's hand warmly.

Something stirred inside Constantin.

“Nice to meet you,” she nodded. “I didn’t know you ride a motorcycle, too.”

“I don’t like to brag. Besides, it’s more of an occasional pastime than an everyday thing.”

“You’re downplaying your achievements,” Max waved him off. “In reality, he’s been saving diligently for his “steed.” This bike is a symbol of his determination. If Van wants something, he’ll put in maximum effort to get it.”

“Okay, enough,” Constantin said. “Guys, if you don’t mind, we’re going to take a walk.”

“Actually, it’s getting late,” Sophia glanced at her watch. “I’d like to get myself in shape before the weekend. But we’ll definitely call tomorrow and come up with something. Is that okay?”

Constantin looked at her, not hiding his disappointment, while the guys whistled suggestively. Or maybe it was Albert.

“Yeah, of course. Need a ride?”

“I drove here, thanks. So, we’ll stay in touch. Bye, guys. Have fun!”

Sophia walked down the promenade, leaving him to watch her go. Every time he thought he could spend a little more time with her, she slipped away.

“She’s a bombshell,” Albert said.

“Don’t be jealous,” Denis smirked and continued passionately talking about the fast ride with his friend.

Constantin wasn't listening to them. All evening he was troubled by his meeting with Sophia.

"Why did she look so exhausted? Is it really just work, or is something else bothering her?"

Returning to the studio, he thoughtfully started mixing paints. He tried to get the right proportions to achieve that very color, like her bottomless, large eyes.

He spent three hours on this, using a significant amount of oil paints, but barely managed to get close to the right shade.

* * *

The traitorous phone wouldn't stop ringing. Constantin opened his eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight, and picked up the receiver.

“Van?”

He sat up sharply in bed, trying to shake off the drowsiness.

“Sophie, hello.”

“Hi. Did I wake you?”

Constantin glanced at the clock.

"Two in the afternoon, seriously?"

“I lost track of time last night while working on my paintings, but it's all good. I'm glad to hear from you.”

“I wanted to ask, how do you feel about Thai cuisine? How about dinner together?”

“As you can probably tell, my appearance answers your question,” he laughed. His voice was still hoarse. “I'd love to.”

“Great! I'll send you the address. See you soon.”

“See you.”

Constantin leaned back on the bed and closed his eyes. Then he opened them again and stared at the ceiling. His mind gradually dispelled the sleepy haze, and he descended to the studio with coffee in hand.

Yesterday, being a captive of mental illness, he hadn’t paid much attention to what he was painting. It was more of a healing ritual and an attempt to distract himself than a serious approach to his work. But today, standing before the painting with a clear mind, Constantin thought it turned out rather well. He hadn’t managed to capture Sophia's eyes, but he painted the mist over the river. The veil above the blue surface of the river conveyed that very sapphire color. A female silhouette, in a long white shirt, with loose dark hair and a wreath in her hands, stepped along the riverbank. The longer Van looked at this girl, the more it seemed to him that she was the mist, or that the mist had created her.

He loved nature like that. In his time, Constantin was inspired by landscapes and the romance of villages, and this left an imprint on his heart, helping him to feel the pristine nature more sensitively. Perhaps that’s why, even during a panic attack, he painted what grounded him. Namely, nature and the color of tranquility, the color of her eyes.

At 6 PM, as agreed, Constantin arrived at the cooperative filled with numerous gastronomic spots and started looking for the name Sophia had sent him. The neon bright green sign read "YAY THAY." Across from it, hills stood like a natural wall, shielding them from the outside world, and above, hundreds of hanging lights had already lit up.

Even though there was still half an hour until the appointed time, the girl was already sitting confidently in a rattan chair, carefully studying the menu. She wore a black polo shirt and round black sunglasses.

“The evening promises to be fiery,” Constantin said, approaching her.

“Well, sometimes there's not enough spice,” the girl agreed, not catching his joke, and handed him the second menu. “What do you think of trying?”

“I’m old-fashioned. So, tom yum and Chang,” he said, not opening the menu. “What should I order for you?”

“I’ve already ordered – Pad Thai and coconut water.”

“Do you always come early?” Constantin asked.

“I value my time, but I really hate being late,” the girl replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sophia spoke casually and briefly, but for some reason, he liked it for the first time. Her cool demeanor seemed to stimulate Van, prompting him to study her more closely and get to her true inner world.

“When it comes to time, I'm impatient. I always feel like I could do more if I were more productive,” he continued.

Their order arrived, and while Constantin delved deeper into the topic, Sophia was already enjoying her meal.

“Every time people leave my exhibition, I think about how much more I still need to grow. Perhaps I haven't spent enough time improving the results of my work,” said Constantin.

“But you live only for creation. Isn't that enough?” Sophia replied.

“As long as there are negative reviews of my work, it's not enough,” Constantin shrugged.

“Why are you so calm?” Sophia asked. “Doesn’t it irritate you that some people don’t appreciate your paintings? They couldn’t even paint a single part of them, yet they still come to your exhibitions and leave negative comments.”

He paused to think. Did he feel irritation at the sight of the ignorant near his work? No.

“I can’t turn a detached skeptic into an art connoisseur,” Van shrugged. “But I can try to instill in him the idea that everything is art and has the right to exist. He may not find understanding in my paintings, but by listening to his favorite music, he’ll definitely get closer to my world without even realizing it.”

Sophia looked at him thoughtfully. For a split second, Constantin thought he saw a smile flicker across her lips. He could only guess whether it was a smile of solidarity or if he seemed ridiculous in his philosophical musings.

They spent the entire evening discussing various topics and taste preferences. It turned out they had a lot in common despite their different personalities.

Constantin unobtrusively studied her face, trying to memorize every line so he could later paint her portrait from memory.

While talking to him, Sophia occasionally glanced away and looked off into the distance over his shoulder. For a moment, it even seemed like someone was standing there.

Constantin glanced over his shoulder. At a nearby table, a couple was sitting together, sharing an ice cream and laughing loudly.

“Do you know them?” asked Van.

“No, I don’t think so. They just look so happy. Maybe it’s the ice cream,” Sophia replied with a smile.

“Or maybe it’s that they’re just good together. Everything else is just props.”

“But I’m definitely going to order some ice cream,” she said, waving to the waiter.

Chapter 5

Constantin was talking to Sophia, surrounded by the glow of hanging lights and the enveloping scents of hoisin sauce and garlic. The weather was gradually turning, with a breeze beginning to pick up from the sea. Yet, it seemed the two of them were oblivious to it.

Libby was making an effort not to draw unnecessary attention to herself in Sophia’s presence.

There were already plenty of guides around, curiously glancing at them. The appearance of the Ephor always sparked discussions, and a wave of speculation was beginning to engulf the Community. Information among the Guides and Ephors had long lost its confidentiality. In a modern world where gossip and snitching were valued, harmful habits had not spared the guides (or were they the very founders of this detrimental phenomenon?).

The incident in the studio and Constantin's painting quickly became the news of the day in the Upper World. Every passing guide cast a glance at Elizabeth. Some looked on with sympathy, others with judgment, and some with outright hatred.

The lower-ranking Guides feared her. They were afraid that one person's mistakes would impact everyone's work, that a chain of failures was contagious, like chickenpox. The older guides used Elizabeth as a bad example among their ranks, saying, "There's always a white crow in the family, and she is their leader."

She had to adapt to the new reality. A reality in which she had become an outcast in just a couple of weeks.

She could only wonder why the Archon hadn’t demoted her yet or removed her from her assignment. Each day, she looked at Constantin in fear that it might be her last. She had been trained not to get attached to her charges, to show empathy while maintaining a clear view of the situation. Now, however, Libby wanted to be visible. She longed to share with Constantin, as she would with a brother, all the burdens she had endured while being near him. While he painted the fiery sunsets and the green seaweed on the sandy beach day and night, Kallidus sat like a faithful dog in a lotus pose by the painting, fearing each new stroke of watercolor.

"Why so slow?" she asked the guide, who was carelessly finishing her meal.

Sophia looked up and glanced at Libby, who stood with her arms crossed behind her, watching her charge.

Constantin naturally noticed this and assumed that Sophia was distracted by a couple enjoying ice cream.

Libby, in turn, looked around and focused on the guides of the couple. The girl had a guide named Nomadum. He was a dark-skinned man with snake-like skin and yellow eyes, who kept nudging his charge to be more sociable and friendly with her boyfriend. The sleeves of his wine-colored shirt were rebelliously rolled up, and the shirt itself was wrinkled and worn in places, as if he had hurriedly dashed out after his charge.

The guy, on the other hand, had a guide named Lombask. He was a man in a business suit with perfectly styled hair slicked back. He constantly glanced at his notebook, jotting something down with a pretentious expression, tapping his sharp claw against the pages. He was probably making a list of the girl’s flaws to ensure the date wouldn’t last longer than one night.

In the world of guides Lombasks were the most driven and businesslike. They were the careerists among the unseen guides, always presenting a flawless appearance and executing their work with equal perfection. Deep down, Libby envied them. In the history of Guides, there had never been a Lombask who failed in their mission. Even now, when the girl laughed at another joke from her companion, Lombask momentarily glanced up from his notebook before returning to his notes with an emotionless demeanor.

Libby turned away from the guides and focused on Sophia again. She wanted to scream at them, to vent all her pent-up emotions. But she couldn’t do that. In the hierarchy of beings, Guides and Ephors never shouted at each other. They either didn’t interact at all or worked together for the benefit of the charge and the Community. That was exactly what Libby planned to do.

“That was a great time. I didn’t even notice how quickly the time flew by,” said Ephor, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

“I was worried it would rain and ruin all our plans. But it seems like the weather is holding up. I didn’t even realize how long we’ve been here. I thought we’d only been sitting for a couple of hours, but it’s already been four—” Constantin replied, surprised. “Maybe we could continue our conversation somewhere new?”

“I would love to, but I still have some plans for today,” the girl sighed.

“Plans? Are you serious?” Libby finally raised her voice. The Guides in the area turned their attention to them, staring. “Constantin, your only plan is to stay here until everything works out.”

“That’s too bad. But I hope our meeting isn’t the last. There are still many restaurants worth visiting,” Constantin said easily, as he was oblivious to the guide’s remarks and the drama unfolding around him.

“I'll step away for a moment to the restroom, if you don't mind,” the girl said, glancing at Libby.

“Of course,” he nodded.

Elizabeth followed silently behind Sophie, hoping there would be no one else in the bathroom. Once inside the stall, Sophia glared at the Guide. The detached expression on her face was gone.

“Are you deliberately driving me crazy?” she asked.

“No, I just don't understand why you’re stalling,” Libby pouted. Conflicts were unhelpful, and now alone with the Ephor, she felt uneasy.

“I’m acting strictly according to protocol,” she retorted. “First, I need to establish myself in his thoughts, gain his trust. If I buzz around Constantin too insistently, he’ll lose interest in me in a couple of days. Is that what we want?”

“Your protocols,” the Guide muttered. “Feelings aren’t governed by logic.”

“Everything is governed by logic,” Sophia said dryly. “And you would do well to start thinking with your head. So stop rushing me. I know it’s not easy. But if everything were simple, this situation wouldn’t have arisen at all. I’m searching day and night in the sources for similar situations and ways to resolve them.”

“Is it really that bad?” Only now did Libby notice the dark shadows under the girl’s eyes, even though Ephors didn’t need sleep.

“A person can't accurately recall their past life or anyone from it. And they definitely can't see guides and describe them in detail. There's something more here than just a small 'gap' in the subconscious,” the Ephor said thoughtfully. “Does he still have panic attacks?”

“There was one, after he met you on the embankment.”

“I'm sure I'll find the reason for all this mess. Right now, I need time and as much as it takes.”

“What if he doesn’t have that time?” Libby asked, frightened.

“There is always time. Be patient. And yes, Elizabeth, stop waiting for approval from other Guides.”

“What?” she exclaimed, taken aback.

“I saw how you were glancing at the other Guides while performing. Trust me, it’s not worth your worries. Fear only hinders you from focusing on your own goals.”

“I understand. But this is my first mistake, and it’s already such a serious one. I’ve thought a lot about what I did wrong. My task was to inspire Constantin, encourage him to take bold actions, fall in love with girls and his creativity. Instead, he became gloomy and obsessed with his desires.”

“We all make mistakes. The only difference is whether you are willing to correct them,” Sophia dismissed.

The Ephor approached the sink to wash her hands when suddenly a woman in her forties emerged from the neighboring stall and looked around in confusion.

“Who are you talking to?” she asked Sophia.

Sophia tapped her index finger on the earpiece in her right ear, which Libby hadn’t noticed under her hair.

“I have a theatrical production coming up. We’re constantly rehearsing.”

“Well, I wish you good luck,” the woman said with a smile as she headed for the exit.

Guide Kanis, following her charge, rolled his eyes and shook his head at them.

Libby wanted to drown herself in that tiny bathroom sink.

Returning to Constantin, she gazed thoughtfully at Sophia.

“There’s always time… How strange.”

Guides never loved time, unlike the Ephors. For them, time passed just as quickly as it did for people. They had to work diligently every second, because every moment their charge made choices that shifted the direction of their life.

The kaleidoscope of events spun relentlessly, even at night. While people slept, guides implanted thoughts and perceptions that they would wake up to. This was why sleep specialists had struggled for years to understand why the structure and routine of sleep often changed. If a guide was anxious and couldn’t separate their feelings from those of their charge, the person suffered from insomnia. This was destructive for both the guide and the charge.

At night, people’s thoughts became clearer, free from external distractions. They had space to contemplate the bigger picture and engage in philosophy. But this also created a risk of existential crises and a reevaluation of personal values.