What a great day!
The beginning of summer, the sun is shining, the leaves on the trees are rustling pleasantly—although I might’ve been exaggerating about the leaves.
A scraggly boulevard at Chistye Prudy metro station doesn’t even compare to a small birch grove, but that’s just poetic musings.
The main thing is, I’ve dealt with all my current issues, and by ten to six, I managed to sneak out of work.
In half an hour, I’m meeting my new girlfriend—it’s only our second date, the most important one—at the metro, and we’re going to see a movie.
In the meantime, I have half an hour to make good use of and buy her some flowers.
Pleasant chores were overshadowed by one thing: I was being followed.
Even though the street was fairly crowded, I realized that for the past five minutes, a young man had been tailing me.
He sped up when I walked faster and lagged behind when I slowed down.
To confirm my suspicion, I turned off Myasnitskaya Street into an alley, and he followed me.
Interesting. What does he want?
He looked decent, quite neat. I managed to catch his reflection in a shop window—his face seemed vaguely familiar.
That’s when I decided to make a move. I pretended I’d taken the wrong alley, threw up my hands in frustration, and, abruptly turning around, headed back toward the street.
The moment I passed by him, our eyes met. He realized he’d been caught.
“Sergey?” he asked.
“Yes. Do we know each other?”
“In a way. I’m sorry to bother you. I really need to talk to you. It won’t take long.”
“Unfortunately, I’m in a hurry.”
“Yes, you’re rushing to meet your girlfriend. But don’t worry, she’ll be late.”
“How would you know that?”
“Let’s just say I’m absolutely certain.”
“Good for you, but I think otherwise. And as I said, I’m in a hurry. Goodbye.”
I started walking back to Myasnitskaya, but then my phone vibrated in my pocket.
The screen showed a message from Lera: “Serёzha, sorry, I’ll be 40 minutes late, something came up. Good thing it’s summer and not winter—you won’t freeze.”
Puzzled, I turned around. The man was watching me, smiling. How did he know?
I quickly dialed her number.
“Lera, hi. Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course. What’s with your voice?”
“Oh, nothing… Just checking. Everything’s fine.”
“Sorry again for the delay. I didn’t have time to freshen up.”
“No problem. See you soon.”
The stranger patiently waited for me to finish the call.
That face—it was so familiar.
I approached him and asked, “But how did you know?”
“I had reliable information.”
I felt a pang of jealousy.
“What does he think of himself? And who are you, anyway?”
“My name is Alexander,” he said, extending his hand.
“So, can we talk? You have time now. Let’s grab a coffee—it’s on me.”
“Is this about Lera?”
“Yes, it is, but don’t worry. What I have to say will surprise you more than upset you.”
His hand was still hanging in the air, so I had to shake it.
“Fine, let’s go, but make it quick.”
We sat down at a table and ordered two cappuccinos. For a while, we sat in silence.
Alexander, who initially seemed like a cocky and overly confident type, now hesitated to start the conversation.
I had to break the silence.
“So, what did you want to tell me?”
“I… well… I have a request for you.”
“A request?”
“Yes, but it might seem silly to you. You might even think I’m crazy.”
“Well, go ahead. You’ve got to start somewhere. Just promise to explain everything to the end.”
“Alright. When you sleep with Lera today,” he blurted out in one breath, “please use protection.”
He squinted his eyes shut.
I wasn’t embarrassed—I was completely dumbfounded.
“I always use protection. That’s none of your business.”
“Trust me, it’s not my business either. The thing is, today, you and Lera will conceive a child.”
“Is that so?”
I didn’t know how to react.
“And how exactly do you know this?”
“Just believe me. You’re not exactly dreaming of becoming a father right now, are you?”
“Maybe not. But what if I want to tie her to me with a child?”
In any unclear situation, resort to awkward irony. It’s almost a foolproof plan.
“So that’s what it’s about,” my companion said, looking disappointed.
“Of course,” I replied, not giving up.
“I thought it might’ve been an accident.”
“Listen, I’m getting confused. Why are we even having this conversation?”
“Well, since you insist, I don’t care anymore if you think I’m crazy or not.”
“Oh, but you cared before?”
“No, I was genuinely hoping to convince you.”
“To convince me to use protection?”
“Yes. Or to not sleep with her at all tonight.”
“To be honest, I doubt anything will happen tonight.”
“It will. You can count on it. And the world will keep spinning as it should.”
“Damn! I was really looking forward to this trip!”
“I really don’t understand.”
He looked at me sadly, as if the fate of the planet depended on my decision to wear a condom.
“What’s there to understand? Look at me carefully.”
“Well, we’ve met somewhere before, maybe played soccer together or went to parallel classes?”
“Not exactly.”
“I’m your son.”
I shook my head.
This guy did vaguely resemble me, but how could he be my son?
“Excuse me, but you seem to be a couple of years older than me. I couldn’t have become your dad at around ‘negative two years old.’”
“If only you knew how much our understanding of the universe will change in just a few decades…”
“Oh, so you know?”
“Yes,” he replied calmly.
I looked at my watch. I still had about 25 minutes.
The stranger intrigued me.
“Alright, enlighten me.”
“Okay. In the year 2041 AD, a time machine was discovered.”
“You mean invented?”
“No, discovered. In Seattle, in one of the partially demolished buildings, a device was found that, as later determined, turned out to be a time machine.”
“Many scientists believe that time travel is impossible.”
“Many scientists believe that time is just the fourth dimension, which can be traveled both forward and backward.”
“And the latter group was right?”
“Exactly.”
“So, you’re a time traveler?”
“Precisely.”
“And what about time paradoxes and all that?”
“They exist, but not on a macro level. Listen further.”
The time machine was tested at NASA for over three years.
They assembled a team of time travelers, the so-called chrononauts.
And they discovered an amazing property of the universe—elasticity.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that all significant events are predetermined and will happen no matter what.”
“So, the pyramids will be built anyway?”
“Yes. The Gothic tribes will sack Rome, and ‘War and Peace’ will be written and appreciated.”
“Even if I go back in time and strangle Tolstoy in his cradle?”
“Yes. In that case, Dostoevsky will write one more brilliant novel instead.”
“Interesting concept.”
“It’s not a concept. It’s a fact.”
“How far did NASA go in their experiments?”
“Have you heard of Pharaoh Khura?”
“Honestly, no.”
“But you’ve heard of Khufu or Cheops, haven’t you?”
“Of course. The largest pyramid in Giza is named after him.”
“Well, that pyramid was originally built for Pharaoh Khura. But due to the clumsy actions of one of the agents, Khura died earlier than he was supposed to become Pharaoh.”
“That’s probably the most significant difference between the original world and the one we know now.”
“At least the most significant difference we’re aware of.”
“Unless you count the fact that the theory of gravity was first formulated by someone other than Einstein.”
“Who then?”
“Some obscure physicist from Vienna.”
“Fascinating. I thought the Americans would first go after Hitler.”
“They wanted to, but a different decision was made. Either way, the role of individuals in history is negligible.”
“And how do you know all this?”
“How? I was trained as a chrononaut and briefed on all the details.”
“So, you’re a professional time traveler?”
“No, I’m more like a cosmic tourist. After the experiments proved that global changes in history were impossible, and the project couldn’t be kept secret, the Americans decided to monetize it. By imposing a bunch of restrictions and requiring future chrononauts to undergo rigorous psychological training at NASA, they offered time travel to anyone willing to pay.”
“What kind of restrictions?”
“Well, for example, you can only appear before your own birth. Otherwise, one of the copies—either the chrononaut or their past self—gets erased. Sometimes both copies are erased, and the person disappears forever. There have been precedents. That’s how the universe resolves local time paradoxes.
In addition, you must pass multiple tests on the most advanced lie detectors. A chrononaut’s goal cannot be intentionally destructive toward other people.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
“Traveling is quite expensive. I could only afford a one-way ticket.”
“So, you can’t go back?”
“No, but that’s not part of my plan anyway. I’m still hoping to convince you.”
“Convince me of what?”
I blinked, already forgetting the beginning of our conversation.
“To wear a condom tonight.”
“I told you, I’ll wear a condom! I will!” I shouted.
Everyone turned to look at me, some with disapproval, others with disgust.
“Really?” His strange face lit up. “So you’re really planning to use protection?”
“I already said, I don’t leave the house without condoms. Why do you even care?”
Wait! I think I’m starting to understand.
“You said you’re my son.”
“Yes. Your only son. In the reality where I exist, yes.”
“But, Sergey, you’re not that old in my reality, so you want me not to conceive you tonight?”
“Maybe we should switch to ‘you’ instead of ‘formal you’?” he asked out of the blue.
“Sure… So, you… Why? Why do you need this?”
“Because,” he darkened, “I’ve lived through a terrible personal tragedy.”
“What kind of tragedy?”
“The death of the woman I loved. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Is that really enough reason to…”
“It is!” he interrupted me sharply.
“Really. It’s so strange to see you young. I don’t seem like a schizophrenic or someone with manic-depressive psychosis, do I?”
“Well, actually, you kind of do.”
“I’ve thought through all possible options, and this one seems the most acceptable to me.”
“Then why don’t you just go back in time and prevent her death?”
“Unfortunately, that’s impossible. It wasn’t an accident but a particularly severe form of an autoimmune disease. They still haven’t learned how to treat it. She burned out in a month.
Besides, my appearance after my own birth could result in the erasure of both of my copies, which would greatly upset my relatives and friends.”
“Why not just… end yourself?”
“Sorry to ask such a question, but it’s a reasonable one.”
“Yes, there are many legal ways to leave this life, but first, it wouldn’t solve the problem I mentioned before. And second, this is much more important.”
He paused, and I leaned forward.
“You see, after my initial urge to end it all, I tried to find solace in religion. And while I didn’t find solace, I did come to truly believe. You could even say I found God. And I believe that suicide is a grave sin that would forever stain my immortal soul.”
I was starting to guess where he was going with this.
“I’m not planning to commit suicide; this is simply about not being born. I’ve sifted through a massive amount of religious literature. I had a lot of free time while preparing for this journey. So, not being born, unlike suicide, is not a sin. I plan to entrust my soul to the Almighty, and that soul must be without sin.”
“In other words, you found a loophole in the system.”
“Please don’t be sarcastic.”
“Listen, Sasha, what if there’s no Almighty?”
“I believe,” he said, with tears in his eyes, “and nothing else matters to me.”
“What if what you fear doesn’t happen today but tomorrow or next week?”
“Every person is a random set of genes, and the formation of both an embryo and a personality depends on so many factors that the appearance of me, specifically me, is almost impossible.”
“Then one more question. If Lera and I do end up having sex tonight and conceiving a child, wouldn’t you both be erased anyway?”
“No. As I explained, there’s a chance that only I will be erased, without the baby. And then everything will go in circles.”
“Alright,” I made one last attempt. “You said everything is predetermined. The pyramids will still be built, the novel will still be written, so you’ll appear anyway.”
“No,” he smiled sadly. “Only significant events are predetermined, not specific individuals. Civilization develops, but who exactly develops it isn’t that important.”
His voice, his eyes, his expressions—they all indicated that he genuinely believed what he was saying.
Even if he was just a city lunatic, which I was now seriously doubting, I wanted to comfort him somehow.
“I’ll help you, I promise,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Actually, you know what? Look, I wasn’t lying to you.”
I pulled out the condoms I always carried with me from my bag.
He grabbed them, examined them critically, and held one up to my face.
The packaging had been punctured by something.
I rummaged through my bag again and pulled out a pair of recently purchased manicure scissors I’d forgotten to take out.
Of course, in the heat of the moment, I wouldn’t have noticed the tiny puncture.
“That’s how I came to be,” Alexander declared solemnly.
My son Alexander. Unbelievable.
He shoved the whole pack into an empty coffee cup.
I grimaced.
“Well, to the pharmacy,” I suggested, glancing at my watch.
There were five minutes left until my meeting with Lera.
“Yes, of course,” he said cheerfully, motioning for the waitress.
“And one more thing. Remember, you and Lera make a great couple. She may not be punctual, but she’s very, very special. Take care of her, cherish her, and you’ll be happy for the rest of your life.”
“Well, of course, you’d say that about your own mother!” I replied, playing along with this absurd dialogue.
At the pharmacy, we were greeted by a stout pharmacist.
“What do you need?”
“A pack of condoms, please. The best ones you’ve got.”
I turned to Sasha, and he nodded encouragingly.
“She probably thinks we’re gay,” I thought idly.
But honestly, what does it matter?
Handing over the money, I grabbed the box from the counter and placed it in a different compartment of my bag.
I felt a slight breeze on the back of my neck and noticed the pharmacist’s face turning pale.
I turned around.
Sasha was gone.
“Maybe he ran off?”
“He… You… You saw it, didn’t you? He… He disappeared. Collapsed into thin air.”
The pharmacist began to sink to the floor.
I was completely stunned.
I hadn’t fully believed the story, let alone the idea of sex on a second date.
But I had to pull myself together—I didn’t want to become the subject of a Life News segment.
I spent two minutes convincing the pharmacist that I had entered the pharmacy alone.
I managed to persuade her that it was an optical illusion caused by the display glass and her fatigue.
I handed her a bottle of water from the shelf and bolted out of the pharmacy, realizing that now I was the one running late.
And then a new text message came in:
“Serёzha, I’m so, so, so sorry! I can’t manage anything in time, and I really want to look pretty. Maybe you could come over to my place? My parents are out, and I’ve got tea and cookies. Okay?”
I smiled and started typing a reply.
“Don’t forget to buy flowers and champagne.”