Artsun Akopyan - Survival Gene. Science Fiction Novel

His heartbeat slowed down, his muscles relaxed. Legs and arms grew heavy and sluggish. He had a desire to sit down or even to lie down for a while. Probably his body was just trying to regain strength after an adrenaline rush.

He measured the distance he had just overcome by eye. Really, it was surprisingly long. He had never run thirty meters in a second and a half before. The reason was, of course, the stress level. It was the first time in his life that someone had pointed a grenade launcher at him!

“You’re right, three hundred thousand is barely sufficient,” Housman smiled even wider as he rose to his feet. “I’ll give you five hundred! Done?”

The pistol in Andrew’s hand was becoming heavy as lead, his legs started trembling with strain. He felt as tired as if he had carried sacks full of sand all day long. He didn’t dare collapse on the floor and drop the gun. No doubt the criminal would take advantage of it at once!

Sound of hurried footsteps came from the staircase. A few policemen barged into the premise. Lining up along the wall, they took aim at Housman. Captain Palmer was the last one to come in.

“I can see the suspect!” he announced with triumph pointing with his forefinger at Housman. “Officers, arrest this man!”

He’s already arrested , you fool , Barkov thought.

However, he was glad to see the captain – for the first time in all the years he’d worked for him.

Palmer looked at Barkov.

“Lieutenant, what are you doing here? You didn’t hear my orders? That’s a serious problem.” It seemed he was about to reprimand Barkov but suddenly he cocked his head and scowled. “We’ll take the suspect and you go to the doctor to check your ear. Move!”

Andrew parked his Ford at a two-storied house buried in overgrown bushes and looked at the rear-view mirror. There was no “tail”. It meant that Palmer hadn’t sent people after him to check that he’d followed his order as he sometimes did. So much the better. They shouldn’t know where Andrew actually went – or why.

Barkov left the car. Instead of his police uniform, he now wore a light gray suit – trousers and a shirt with short sleeves made of pure linen. Off duty, he always wore civilian clothes.

Barkov looked around once again and headed to the house.

A few months ago he read an announcement in the Internet about services provided at this address. He decided to give it a try. The result had satisfied him. Since then, he came there every Friday, which helped him to relieve stress after a workweek. Andrew kept his new hobby a secret from everybody, even from his own mother. Otherwise, she would surely be upset and tell him something like, “Sonny, you should better get married instead of cherishing illusions! You’re thirty-three already, it’s time to have children!”

Already sensing the delightful aroma of jasmine, Barkov pushed the metal gate. He walked on a path paved with colored tiles to the entrance door and knocked three times. The lock clicked almost at once. The door opened. Before him stood a dark-haired blue-eyed girl with a slim figure in a close-fitting white suit. Andrew had never seen her before.

“Hello.” He was confused. “Who are you?”

She smiled. “Come in, Andrew. I’m waiting for you.”

She stepped back to let him in.

A pretty girl , Barkov thought as he entered a small foyer with black tiles on the floor and light-beige walls. Is she the home owner’s relative?

But it was tactless to ask such a question aloud. Dan Mortimer would introduce her himself if he wanted to.

Barkov stopped before the escalator. “Is Dan upstairs?”

“No, he had to leave for an urgent matter,” the girl answered as she locked the front door.

“Why? He doesn’t hold classes at the conservatory, does he? We agreed by mindphone… What’s happened?”

“Nothing, it’s no big deal, but he won’t be back for at least two hours. I’ll teach you today.”

At first, Andrew thought she was joking. “Are you a singing master?”

“Naturally. My name is Emily.”

Her facial expression was quite serious now. She isn’t joking . Obviously, she was Mister Mortimer’s colleague. It was strange that he hadn’t warned Andrew about the replacement.

“Nice to meet you. My name’s Andrew.”

“I know. Follow me.”

The girl pronounced words quickly and, as it seemed to Barkov, was a little nervous. An inexperienced teacher, probably .

Not turning onto the escalator, she began to go up the steps slowly, moving her hips from side to side with an unnaturally large swing. Did she work as a model before this ?

On the second floor, in the biggest room, there was an ancient black piano and a brown leather sofa. The room had two windows, both of which were soundproof.

Usually Andrew rehearsed standing between the sofa and a window. Mortimer didn’t allow him to sit because “lungs work badly in such a position.”

“Sit down, please,” Emily offered, pointing at the sofa, and opened the piano cover as she curved her back with affected grace. “Let’s begin with a scale: do, re, mi, fa, sol.” She sat down on a swivel chair and started to poke her finger abruptly into keys starting for some reason with note “la’ of the contra octave. Reaching “re’ of the small octave, she stopped and turned to Andrew. “You know what? Let’s become better acquainted with each other for a start. Are you married?”

The behavior of this damsel was strange at the very least. Did she like him so much that she lost the sense of propriety?

“No. I’m single.” A sudden thud was heard in Dan’s bedroom adjoining the study. “Who is there?”

“No one. A cat, I think. My God, it’s so hot in here!” She rose and unbuttoned her jacket, revealing her thin top fitting close to her round breasts with protruding nipples. “Why don’t we go down to the kitchen and drink some coffee?”

What is going on? he thought. Perhaps the girl was nutty. If so, why had Mortimer invited her? And since when did Mortimer have a cat?

“No, thank you. I’m tired. Think I’ll go home.”

The thud in the bedroom repeated, but this time it was louder.

Suddenly Barkov felt tingling in his stomach. It was a signal that a blow was going to be struck in that place. The threat emanated from Emily. Andrew felt it as clearly as the aroma of jasmine in the street a few minutes ago or the softness of the sofa he was sitting on. Muscles of his body strained involuntarily.

Wasn’t his sixth sense mistaken this time? There was not a hint of aggression in the girl’s facial expression.

Emily stood up slowly and went behind the piano as she threw off her jacket. Did she decide to undress completely?

Going around the instrument, she suddenly rushed towards Barkov. She had a pointed crowbar in her hands, which was targeted at Andrew’s stomach. It was easy for him to dodge. The bar ripped the upholstery open and stuck into the sofa back.

“Are you crazy?” he asked as he jumped two steps aside.

The girl pulled the weapon out from the back and pointed it at Andrew’s breast. “I will not let you lock my father up! Die!”

She made another attack.

Barkov bent his trunk to the right side letting the bar go past him. He snatched the weapon out of her hand and pushed her so that the girl flew over the back of the sofa and fell down on the floor with a crash.

“Who is your father?” he demanded as she was getting up.

“Eddy Housman,” the “teacher’ forced herself to speak holding her hip with her hand and grimacing with pain.

Andrew started to understand what was going on. “So Eddy Housman is your father?”