Struggle. Prisoners of Darkness - стр. 3

Entering the "coal face hall" (the room where direct mining was done), two figures came into view: Dominik Brazik (number 572644A2) and Piotr Dożyk (number 323372B2). Their faces were not grim with the gravity of the task at hand, but they were squinting from sleep.

"What, didn't sleep?" – Gabriel greeted the miners. He liked to inspire the people with such remarks, arousing anger and rage in strictly limited quantities (and it didn't matter who it was poured out on, the main thing was that it would help them survive). Today, the plagues were only allowed to sleep for 4 hours, as opposed to the usual 8; generally speaking, this was the only thing humans were lucky with – the plagues needed 16 hours of sleep, and they thought it was similar to humans, so they cut it down to 8.

"Sleeping. – whispered Dominic to the approaching commander, "Those bastards got in the way. Don't know what's causing all these surprises today?"

"It's not hard to understand," said the deputy. – They've got their hands full."

"Two boots to a pair. How lucky they are to work together. – thought Gora. – Even their eyes are the same… Dark blue with spark and hate. How come they haven't been caught yet?"

"What do you think Gora?" "What can I say… Assholes…" Everyone laughed in unison.

"From words to action. – Gabriel continued. – Here's a question…"

Their foreheads tensed, their eyes glistened, their mouths opened slightly – in short, every part of their faces was engaged, as if in anticipation of a lightning strike in a clear field where only one man stood.

"Exit."

"Well, I thought so," the muscles relaxed.

"Don't tell anyone what you're thinking. It's not time to think yet… But it's time to dream." "That's what everyone's thinking about, and you know very well."

"And plagues, too," Gabriel brightened here. He had said the phrase before, but only now did he realize the power its realization gave him. It's a chance.

"Well Exit…" – Dozhik said.

"This is a chance. It really is a chance," thought Gora. "Kilograms 125, ah…"

"What?" – Stumbled the commander. "YOU asked about Exit."

"Ah, yes. И?"

"We're 125, 647 is 80. I've already talked to them, so you don't have to try, they say they're getting hit hard today." "They haven't finished their work yet and already they're seceding…" – the chums had a whole charter on

punishments – "All right. We'll organize the transfer," Gora replied and thought again: "This is really a chance.

When the commander returned to the sorting place, the catfish began its work. But Gora didn't care about that now: for the first time in his forty-five years he saw a real chance to free people.