The White Space. Chapter 17 Everything went differently than planned
The closer he got to the border, the more clearly he understood one thing: if they discovered him, there would be no way to explain it.
This was not an extra color cartridge, something he had permission to work with. It was not a material he could simply classify as a professional tool.
This was something far greater.
Something dangerous for the white world.
And equally dangerous for him.
He reached the border deep in the night.
The floodlights spread cold pools of light around the checkpoint, making everything appear even whiter than usual. The asphalt, the control building, the barrier gate, and even the uniforms of the officers — everything looked unnaturally clean, sterile, and lifeless.
The same officer who had stopped him during his first crossing was there again.
After that day, they had crossed paths several more times, and now the man already recognized him.
The officer took his documents, examined them carefully, and then shifted his attention toward the vehicle.
Sirius tried to breathe normally, but suddenly he felt his palms becoming damp.
Under the seat were the disassembled parts of the food printer.
— Are you carrying anything prohibited? — the officer asked, looking inside the car.
— No, — Sirius answered shortly.
The officer lifted his eyes from the documents. His gaze remained on Sirius’s face a little longer than necessary.
— Are you sure? — he asked in a stricter tone.
Silence filled the car.
For a moment, Sirius thought he could hear his own heartbeat.
But his expression remained calm.
— You can search the car if you want to make sure I’m not transporting anything forbidden, — he said coldly.
The officer stared directly into his eyes.
The pause stretched.
Sirius imagined the next words.
Open the trunk.
Step out of the vehicle.
Search the interior.
Find the parts.
He imagined how a few seconds could destroy everything.
But the officer simply handed his documents back.
— Proceed.
The bollard slowly lowered.
Only after the car had driven several hundred meters away from the checkpoint did Sirius realize that he had barely been breathing the entire time.
He drove through the darkness of the night.
The city was quiet, but it was not completely asleep. A thick white fog had descended over the white world, and the headlights of his car cut through it in narrow beams, leaving cold trails of light across the road.
The buildings around him seemed even more distant and silent than usual. As if the entire city itself had held its breath.
Sirius drove and thought about what would come next.
He imagined their secret café.
How they would all gather inside the bunker.
How the heavy doors would slowly open, revealing a place where, for the first time in many years, people would not simply exist — they would live.
They would sit at the tables.
They would talk.
They would laugh.
And no one yet knew that the opening would bring not only a new member of their little community, but something far more significant.
Food.
And perhaps… even drinks.
Sirius decided not to tell them about his secret yet.
He hid the printer components in the kitchen — deep inside a cabinet where none of the guests would ever look.
He wanted to surprise them.
Not simply show them the device.
But give them a moment they would remember forever.
It was going to be an unforgettable evening.
But more than anything else, Sirius was waiting for another meeting.
With Angela.
He had already decided: the next morning, he would visit her store again.
He did not want to wait any longer.
The next day, when the small bell above the entrance rang softly, Sirius stepped inside.
He felt the familiar atmosphere of the shop, saw the neatly arranged rows of clothing, and immediately noticed her.
Angela was standing behind the counter.
He felt the slight weight of the backpack on his shoulders — the sculpture was inside.
And that thought alone made him smile.
Angela noticed his smile immediately.
And she smiled back.
— Good afternoon, sir, — she greeted him in her warm voice.
— Good afternoon. I decided to use the discount voucher you gave me, — he replied. — I’ll take a look around and see if I can find something I like.
— Call me if you need any help.
Sirius walked between the rows, occasionally glancing at her when he thought she was not looking.
He chose a suit and headed toward the fitting room.
The plan was simple: leave the sculpture somewhere she would inevitably find it.
He understood that Angela would most likely realize who had left it.
But if she reported it to the authorities, he would simply say that he knew nothing about the object.
Although deep inside, he already knew she would not do that.
In a world where everyone was trained to report even the smallest deviation, she was different.
And that was exactly why he trusted her.
Sirius approached the counter to pay.
Angela took the suit and began processing the purchase, but her eyes returned to him several times.
As if she was trying to understand something.
— How is your work going? — she asked. — Have there been any interesting projects since our last meeting?
— Yes. I designed a store. It turned out quite creative. I think you would like it, — he replied, watching her check the suit.
Suddenly, Angela stopped.
— Oh, your barcode tag has come off. It must have fallen out in the fitting room, — she said.
And without waiting for his response, she walked toward the fitting rooms.
Sirius tensed.
He did not know what to do.
Should he follow her?
Should he stop her?
Should he take the sculpture himself?
But while he hesitated, she had already entered the room.
Her footsteps stopped.
Silence followed.
Sirius felt the tension tightening in his chest.
A moment later, a blue light escaped from the fitting room.
It flashed.
Disappeared.
Then appeared again.
And then Angela stepped out.
She was holding the sculpture in her hands.
She looked at it.
Then at Sirius.
— Was this you? Did you leave it for me? — she asked quietly.
The blue light from the sculpture reflected across her face, making her seem even more unreal against the sterile white world surrounding them.
— Yes, — Sirius answered.
For a moment, he felt frozen.
— Honestly, I thought you would find it after I had already left.
Angela suddenly laughed.
It was not the restrained, polite laughter Sirius was used to hearing from people in the white world.
It was real.
Warm.
Almost forgotten.
She looked at his surprised expression and could not stop herself.
— I knew it, — she said through her laughter. — I could tell immediately from your face.
She looked at him again, still smiling.
— Good thing you didn’t see me at that moment.
Sirius looked at her as if he were witnessing something impossible.
A person who could simply laugh.
Without a reason.
Without permission.
Without fear.
— I would give anything to have seen it, — he said with a smile. — I wish I could laugh like that too.
Angela tilted her head slightly.
— No, no, no. Better not.
There was no mockery in her voice.
Only a quiet sadness.
As if she knew something he had not yet understood.
Sirius smiled.
This meeting had gone completely differently from what he had planned.
He had imagined another scenario.
Silence.
Caution.
A carefully controlled moment.
But now he realized that perhaps this was exactly how it was supposed to happen.
A little chaos in this structured world.
In a world where everything was calculated and controlled, even the smallest accident could become something extraordinary.
— So this is what you work with... — Angela said quietly, looking at the sculpture.
She moved her fingers close to its surface but did not touch it.
As if she was afraid of damaging something fragile.
— I like this color.
Sirius noticed that she was looking not only at the sculpture.
She was looking at him.
— I’m glad you like it.
For a moment, he wondered whether he should say more.
— Actually, I work with colored spaces. And this sculpture... it is a completely different story.
Angela raised her eyes.
Curiosity appeared in her gaze.
— Maybe someday you’ll tell me that story?
She said it lightly, almost playfully.
But to Sirius, those words meant more than simple curiosity.
They were an opportunity.
A chance to see her again.
— I would love to, — he replied. — But it’s a very long story...
He deliberately paused.
He was already thinking ahead.
Trying to create another reason for them to meet.
Angela smiled.
— And when will I be able to hear it?
Sirius did not hesitate.
— I’m free tomorrow evening.
For a few seconds, she remained silent.
Then she took a small piece of paper and a pen.
— Then write down your contact number. I’ll send you the address where we’ll meet.