1
One of the packs went flying into the center of the hall, another one over the reception desk. A moment later there was a loud bang of an explosion, then a second, and a third. Smoke abruptly billowed up, filling the space of the Agency.
Isaac instinctively covered his head. He didn’t feel any pain, only his eyes hurt and his throat was sore from the pungent smoke. Nobody seemed to scream or whimper, frightened people coughed one after another. A face contorted in terror, belonging to a girl who worked at the reception, flashed by in front of his face. She was in shock but seemed okay. As soon as she gave a cry, a few more squealing voices joined in.
Water gushed down from above; a fire-extinguishing system went off. The sirens howled loudly and nastily. Another explosion rang out, or rather a thud. There was no fire or shrapnel, no shock wave either, just the smoke. However after the next thud Isaac felt fit of panic – irrational, hideous fear. He realized it wasn’t over yet and anything could still happen, that after the thud a real explosion can strike. The fear made him crawl towards the door, seeing nothing, blinded by the acrid gas tears streaming out of his eyes. Thinking calmly was something he couldn’t do at the moment, leaving it all to instincts.
“Where’s the main computer? Where do you keep the devil’s heart?” the terrorist screamed in a booming voice, donning a respirator.
The voice brought Isaac back down to earth a little and forced him to focus. Since the terrorist breathed the air, it was not poisonous, not a chemical attack. What he had to do was cautiously crawl towards the door, trying not to attract attention.
“Move it, or I’ll kill’er!” shouted the attacker.
A woman squealed again. The old man nearby was breathing heavily and coughing. The water had dampened down the gas a bit, and the air was gradually clearing, so he had to move faster.
“Askin’ ya for the last time! And don’t anybody move! You! The doomed one!” Through the smoke Isaac could see the gun firmly pointed at him.
At that moment Isaac couldn't think rationally, but gloomily thought that he had blown off not only his own life, but his sister Vicky’s as well. That morning he was sure that it couldn't be worse, but he was wrong and his recklessness would cost them both their future.
Well, yes, the future turned out to be not what he had thought. He had studied excellently, easily entered a prestigious university, his future seemed totally rosy. But we can’t predict what the world will look like in five years, neither the life around us, or our own. Some crappy war or epidemic, or even such a seemingly positive thing as progress, can change the world in just a few months! So here you are, studying, working your tail off, taking educational loans, passing exams, not sleeping at nights, looking forward to becoming a specialist in demand, and – poof! – suddenly the damn Agency appears, and all your knowledge gets out of date in just one second, and you are totally screwed.
As a teenager Isaac craved adventures and discoveries, envied the young professor in the film Godzilla and the cool nerve of Jean Reno’s character. He saw himself in the future, traveling and making appearances at scientific exhibitions and congresses. First it went smooth - a graduate of a highly prestigious university, a young engineer. But after being presented with a beautiful diploma with the name Isaac Leroy embossed in gold, the future barman hadn't come across any more gold anywhere. It’s hard enough living in glamorous Monaco, the European paradise. It’s not as big of a deal as you might think because he's got absolutely zilch money. The sun and sea are free, for the rest you have to pay. Yes, the way his dreams came true turned out was a bit different. He had been dreaming of America, and he got it - “America” was the name of the bar where he was working. As a matter of fact, the owner looked a little like Reno and had a temperament every bit as ferocious as Godzilla. As for the real America, the most advanced place of all, meant for brilliant and talented minds, he never got to go there. Now there was no sense in traveling: if you have your creative energy, just go ahead and sell it, no need to fly anywhere. Who could have thought before, that instead of uranium or palladium the most valuable resource in the world would be human creativity?
The most ironic thing - it was all the fault of his beloved science!
A few years ago Jeremy Link, a Professor at the University of London, doctor of bioenergetics, identified human energy, responsible for an individual’s originality, fantasy and imagination. He called it “orange energy”, or simply OE. Skeptics made fun of him, but the professor calmly continued studying the phenomenon called “creativity”. Five years later he