The hotel doors burst open and a few guards spilled out. Judging by their hesitant looks, they'd been arguing till the last second about whether it was worth leaving the safety of the lobby. Which means, at least for someone, my image worked.
Respect to those brave men!
But time to hurry. I started flapping toward the lake in my fins and slipped back under the surface, paddling like a dog. For a moment I gulped a deep breath and dove. The shouts of the guards faded away.
Thankfully, the comm device was waterproof.
Can't say the same for my trembling legs, frozen bones, and every other noble organ of this body — imperfect, sure, but ever striving toward perfection.
Let the black waters scare someone else, while I shouted (internally):
"Eat this, damn Nessie! You're a leftover fossil, a footnote in moldy manuscripts. If you wanted fame, you should've done a bit more over the centuries than showing up in a few blurry-ass photos.
Meanwhile, me — the Ichthyander — I've already been seen by multiple witnesses. My legend's gonna grow fat on every new rumor. Success? Who else but him, my precious boy!"
The world started to spin a bit — I realized hypoxia was kicking in. If I kept philosophizing, I'd run out of air and drown. And since I was already making such obvious, dumb conclusions, that meant it was definitely time to resurface.
I made a sharp stroke upward, lifted my head a little, and greedily — no, hungrily — started inhaling all the air in Scotland. Don't worry, I left some for the locals. I'm not a monster.
Meanwhile, the hotel guards had retreated back to their fortress — just as planned. Their bravery had shown them the middle finger and walked off into the sunset, head hanging low.
Once I caught my breath, I asked quietly:
— So? Was it a bomb?
— It looked… weird, but pretentious, — Ada said.
— Where reason dies, you're born. And so are myths, my friend. I swear on the memory of my hamster Benny.
— Fine. Then let me dry off a bit, and let's go raise more hell.
Third Case / Operation / Infiltration into the Minds of the Audience.
Man, I'd kill for a sip of that cool Loch Ness water right now — instead of this blinding slab of yellow plasma up top! I'd dried out properly, all right. Now if only I could figure out how to smear sunscreen on my glasses and shoes, maybe this wouldn't hurt so damn much.
But hey — I picked Egypt as our next destination myself, so no whining. All that's left is to find a clean rag to wipe off the sweat that's burning my eyes and threatening to tunnel its way into my soul.
All around me — or at least in the general direction my half-blinded gaze could manage — stretched a scorched plain, with the yellow-gray stone of the ancient Temple of Seti I cutting into it.
Honestly, I thought it'd look like a typical pyramid, but no — it was more of a horizontal thing. At least it didn't press down on you like the others. It felt… inviting. And probably cooler inside.
Ada had gone off to negotiate with our future tour guide about a few extra services after the main trip. She'd protested at first, of course — her good-natured conscience still got in the way of becoming a full-fledged creator. Took a lot of convincing to remind her that no one cuts deals like she does. Flattery, yeah — but still true!
Odi, meanwhile, had gone to the nearest town to grab the supplies we needed for the operation. Broad daylight, zero subtlety. We'd decided we weren't doing the spy thing anymore — one more job, and we'd upload everything anyway.
So why stress over tiny details?
As for me — what was I doing, besides roasting alive?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
I came up with all of this.
And while Adelgunda grumbled about it, she knew — the megabrain needs its breaks from all that technical nonsense. Also, I was genuinely cursing every possible temperature scale, Fahrenheit and Celsius alike, because my baked brain was producing thoughts like these:
Comment under the video:
"Your vids are total boredom. Seriously? If you ever get ten views, thank the algorithm and go make out with it."
Reply to the comment:
"Dear hater, could you please tell us what exactly made you dislike our content so much? You've been leaving sharp reviews under every video on our channel, and we truly don't understand the reason for your anger."
Reply to the reply:
"Pray I keep commenting at all, otherwise that '0' will stay there till the end of time. Anyway, I'll be waiting for you, Adelgunda, and Odile today at 3 near the university. Time to fix your brains a little."
Predictably, they showed up.
And there they were — looking at NoWay (though back then he had a different name). Each in their own way.
Adelgunda — puzzled and skeptical.
Odile — couldn't even quite remember who he was. NoWay had been expelled from their course for not showing up to class. They'd barely crossed paths.
But he'd known them very well. Pure accident (yeah, right) — he'd stumbled on their little joint blog, where they took turns each episode, talking about…
— Damn birds! Is there any topic duller for online content?! Even coffin design sounds livelier! Don't you dare exchange looks — that idea's patented, so keep your greedy hands off it!
Come on, seriously — even ornithologists get paid to study wings and feathers, but you two just talk about finch indigestion for free. No fame, no cash, not even a pity euro or whatever other currencies exist.
Don't interrupt me! Anyone who sticks their face in front of a camera and shows it to the world on any platform wants recognition, fans, and money. You can pretend otherwise, but I know! So ditch this nonsense and join me in my grand project — one that'll blow the minds of not just humans, but your precious birds too.