Equilibrium Code

Lana walked through every room in the house, stopping at each painting. Most of them were landscapes — oceans, mountains, open fields. Some showed famous cities and landmarks: the canals of Venice, the Eiffel Tower, the Roman Colosseum... She pulled out a magnifying glass and took a closer look. The images were moving. Barely — almost imperceptibly — but undeniably. Tiny waves rippled on the water. Clouds shifted slightly in the sky. Flags fluttered. Windows glinted. Her head was spinning.

“Keep calm, just stay calm,” she whispered — channeling her inner Karlsson6.

But there was no one to talk to. Everyone had gone off somewhere. Even her daughter had asked to visit her beloved grandfather at the other summer house — the one with the “little sea,” which was actually a lake. Both homes were “summer houses” to Sintik. The only difference was: one was by the big sea, the other by the little one.

Lana took a breath.

Step one: calm down.

Step two: find a logical explanation.

Well, step one was clear enough.

Step two? Absolutely not.

“Let’s start with the doable,” she muttered, and went to make some coffee. The coffee turned out perfect — rich and fragrant. She sank into a chair, opened her beloved little laptoppy, took a small sip of the hot brew — and finally, finally felt herself relax.

“Alright... what’s new in the world?” she said aloud, almost playfully.

She began her usual routine — checking stock markets, RTS7/ NYSE8 movements, any world events that might affect them. Summer wasn’t usually the time for major changes, but…

Everything had changed. A major player had entered the game. Stocks were surging. Volatility was back. For Lana — this was amazing. She could partially close her positions and wait for the autumn rally.

Feeling like a financial genius, she allowed herself a leisurely detour through the internet, eventually landing in her email inbox. A few messages were waiting. She deleted some spam, then spotted one that made her pause. It was from her recent “acquaintances” — the ones responsible for all the strange, possibly insane events of the past weeks. Vladislav and his son were planning to visit for a few days. The message was polite, assuring her they didn’t want to disturb her or the guests. If anything, they would be the guests.

The email was three days old. Apparently, she had missed it yesterday while skimming through her mail.

“Ugh, blondie strikes again,” she muttered, half embarrassed.

It was a bit awkward. The house had been entrusted to her. But what could she do? She’d accepted the role. And now… here they come. On the bright side, maybe she could finally ask them about all the house’s strange behavior. Sometimes it all seemed so absurd that Lana thought any reasonable person, hearing about what she’d witnessed, would instantly question her sanity.

But deep down, she felt — this story wasn’t over. There had to be more to it. The next issue on her mind was how to accommodate the returning owners. There were only four bedrooms in the house — and all of them were currently occupied. Someone would have to be relocated… or the family would have to squeeze in a bit during their visit. She’d have to either kick someone out… or suggest some creative room-sharing. Still mulling over the logistics, Lana stepped into the hallway and froze.

There were six doors!

She already had a feeling — and yep, there they were. Two extra bedrooms. Ready. Waiting. She stepped outside and walked around the house. No visible change from the outside.

Of course not. Still — for peace of mind — she circled the house one more time. As she neared the garden gazebo and looked up at the tower section of the house…she heard a voice.

“Hello, Lana.”

She jumped. There he was. The man from the car. The one she’d met under the most dramatic circumstances. He was sitting calmly, smoking.

“I didn’t hear you arrive,” she said, a little flustered. Then quickly added, “Well… this is your house. You can come and go as you please.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, eyes locking onto hers.

“I’m fine,” she replied automatically, regaining composure.

“I can see that,” he said, leaning back casually.

“But is everything… normal?”

His gaze was penetrating. Lana felt like she was being X-rayed.

“Good thing I’m wearing new underwear,” she thought absurdly — and blushed at herself.

“You’re smiling,” he said, surprised. “After everything that’s been happening to you here?”

“Oh, look out — Mount Vesuvius is about to blow,” Lana teased.

“What exactly are you referring to?”

“You seriously don’t notice anything strange?” he nearly shouted.

But before Lana could deliver another sarcastic comeback, a familiar voice cut in:

“Oh, she got you good.” It was Vlad — approaching with his usual warm, friendly smile.

Lana looked at his son, who stood there completely baffled.

Victory! She’d won that round.

“Alright,” Lana said, suddenly more relaxed.

“What’s your name again?” He told her.

Then repeated it — slowly, syllable by syllable. At that moment, a gust of wind slammed into the window, shutting it with a loud bang — and she never quite caught his name.

* * *

Sometimes, it feels like someone’s watching you — as if the whole world pauses for a moment, silently observing what you’ll do next. When she was a little girl, Lana used to imagine that she wasn’t just a defenseless child — but the very center of a vast and mysterious universe. Everything around her, she believed, had been created just for her. She felt — vaguely, but deeply — that something real was waiting for her out there, somewhere far away. And that right now, in this quiet moment, she was taking a kind of secret test from an unseen teacher. Even when she was completely alone, the little girl tried to behave her best — as if she believed that everything she did mattered, because someone, somewhere, would care. She grew up. But the feeling never truly left. It simply curled up in a quiet corner of her heart, waiting. And now, listening to these two extraordinary men speak, so many things began to make sense. Something within her stirred, rising with strength she didn’t know she had. It felt like the moment a bird opens its wings for flight.

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Примечания

1

Jūrmala (Latvian: [ˈjuːrmala] ⓘ; "seaside") is a state city in the Vidzeme region of Latvia, about 25 kilometres (16 miles) west of Riga. Jūrmala is a resort town stretching 32 km (20 miles) and is sandwiched between the Gulf of Riga and the Lielupe River. It has a 33 km (21 miles) stretch of white-sand beach and is the fifth-largest city in Latvia.

2

The question "Who is to blame and what is to be done?" was posed in an article by Alexander Herzen, who also authored the novel Who is to Blame? What Is to Be Done? (Tales about New People) is a novel by Russian philosopher, journalist, and literary critic Nikolay Chernyshevsky.

3

A café in Riga called "Paldies Dievam, piektdiena ir klāt" ("Thank God, Friday is here").

4

The Forsyte Saga is a major literary work by British author John Galsworthy, written as a monumental series of interconnected narratives portraying the life of the wealthy English Forsyte family.

5

The game Novuss is a tabletop sport similar to billiards. You could call it a compact version of billiards, except that instead of rolling ivory balls, players use a striker disc to hit wooden pucks.

6

Karlsson (Swedish: Karlsson) — a literary character created by Swedish author Astrid Lindgren.

7

RTS Stock Exchange

8

NYSE is one of the major stock exchanges in the United States.