102 / 180
102
on the injector, and inject yourself with a dose of youth.
You get up on your legs and return to your home base, and
there the time-therapist fixes you up to your original
condition.”
“And where’s that base?”
“Right here,” Gregor pulled out of his pocket a magnetic
card – a gray one without any writing on it.
“I don’t see anything,” Max scratched himself.
“On the edge of the karte are tiny numbers. The first seven
are the code for the name of the street. That is, the cardinal
numbers matching the letters of the alphabet that you put
together when you let at least one neuron into your single-
celled brein. The last three numbers – the number of the
building. Without the karte you won’t get in here. Keep it.
You’re in now.
Max grew pensive. In his hands he weighed the two
chronomatizers and endeavored to feel the weight of time
in his brother's device. And he didn't feel anything. Thirty
years didn't weigh anything. For a moment Max became
faint. When he looked at Gregor, it came to mind that this
age distance between them could now be overcome. Even
moreso... And here, like a lightning bolt, a certain ugly
thought that instantly became covered in the flesh of reality
threaded through his brain.