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Sanjar, grinning, offered:
– I can show you a trick.
Yerlan, slightly confused, found himself:
– And I… Ah… Well… You know, I love you so much that all words lose their meaning.
Aida just shook her head, still smiling, and quietly added:
– Okay, you’re always like this. I’m kidding, don’t worry.
At that moment, Zhaniya ran into the room, holding a painting in her hands. Her eyes shone with pride as she handed her creation to Aida.
– Wow, how beautiful! What is this, daughter? – Aida asked with admiration, carefully examining the work.
– It’s a city! – Zhaniya answered proudly.
Aida looked at the picture with admiration, then handed it to Erlan:
– Look, your daughter painted it!
Erlan took the picture and, looking at it, smiled broadly.
– Wow! It’s a flying city! – he said with surprise and admiration.
– That’s right, dad, it’s a flying city! – Zhaniya confirmed, raising her hands up, as if trying to reach the imaginary sky.
– Beautiful, very beautiful, as always. You’re doing great, daughter. I think we need to hang this somewhere in a prominent place. Maybe in your room, Sanzhar? – Erlan suggested, handing the picture to his son.
Sanzhar looked at the picture, and his face lit up with a smile.
– Ha-ha, flying cities, flying cows! – he joked, slightly mocking his sister’s work.
Zhaniya immediately frowned and her eyes filled with tears. She snatched the painting from Sanzhar, clutching it in her hands, and without saying a word, ran out of the room.
Aida, observing the situation, smiled softly, trying to defuse the situation:
– Okay, don’t worry, don’t pay attention. This is adolescence, the girl is growing, a normal physiological process.
Erlan, still looking in the direction where Zhaniya had run off to, sighed with slight regret:
– All the same, Sanzhar, you are already an adult, five years older than your sister. You need to be a little gentler with her.
Sanzhar nodded, realizing his mistake, and quietly replied:
– Okay, dad, I realized my mistake. I think I’ll go to my room.
Erlan smiled at his son with approval:
– Come on, be a good boy.
Sanzhar got up from the table and slowly walked to his room, thinking about what had happened. Aida and Erlan remained at the table, continuing to discuss the past day. The warm evening, filled with mixed feelings and thoughts, was coming to an end, leaving behind a feeling of satisfaction and anticipation of something new.
1:7 Computer game. Sanzhar, leaving his parents in the kitchen, slowly walked up the stairs to his room. His thoughts were still wandering around the recent dinner and Zhaniya’s resentment. He realized that he had done wrong, and now this thought weighed on him. Opening the door to his room, he plunged into the familiar world of technology and games, where every element was carefully selected and configured for productive work and rest.
Sanzhar’s room was filled with coziness and an atmosphere of creativity. On the table there were two monitors, which softly glowed with multi-colored lights, reflected in the keyboard with a bright backlight. A poster on the wall with the logo of their joint game Unity of War reminded him of the current project, which he and Lesha had been working on for several months. This corner was a place for Sanzhar where he could immerse himself in a world created by his own imagination and technical skills.
Sanzhar sat down at the computer and quickly checked which of his friends were online. As soon as he opened the game, a message from Lesha appeared on the screen: “Hi! Let’s test the new version?” Sanzhar typed back: “Come on! How are you doing, by the way?”
Unity of War loaded quickly, and their characters found themselves in the center of a virtual world filled with dynamic battles and intense strategies. It was a complex project that required both of them not only technical knowledge, but also creative thinking. While they fought other players, the dialogue between the friends continued.
“How are your studies?” Sanzhar asked, dodging an attack from an enemy who unexpectedly jumped out from around the corner.
“Fine, I’m continuing to delve into programming,” Lyosha answered, his voice sounding focused. “They give a lot of homework at KBTU, but it’s interesting. How are you?”
“Everything’s fine with me,” Sanzhar answered, pushing his way through enemy lines. “By the way, our game is almost ready for testing. How’s the programming going?”
“It’s going well, but sometimes there are bugs,” Lyosha admitted. “And now I’ll need to fix a few things. Lags at the most inopportune moment…
Sanjar heard the disappointment in his friend’s voice as the game suddenly slowed down, and then a “lag” appeared on the screen, freezing the characters in place.
– There, you see? That problem again. I’ll have to dig into the code again, – Lesha sighed heavily.
– Yeah, – Sanjar felt his friend’s annoyance. – Okay, don’t worry. You’ll cope, as always.
– I hope so, – Lesha sounded a little upset. – Okay, I need to go figure this out. Then we’ll discuss how to improve the graphics and sound.
– Okay, let’s go. Good luck, – Sanjar said, exiting the game.
The room was filled with silence again, interrupted only by the noise of the fans in the computer. Left alone, Sanjar immersed himself in his thoughts. Zhaniya’s grievances and the tension in his relationship with his sister suddenly seemed more important than the bugs in the game. Deciding it was time to apologize, Sanjar stood up and headed for the door to go to his sister and make peace.
1:8 Reconciliation with the younger sister. Sanjar quietly approached the door of Zhaniya’s room and knocked, trying not to be too loud, but not too quiet. There was no answer. He waited a few seconds, then knocked again, this time a little more insistently. From behind the door came the muffled, slightly capricious voice of his sister:
– What do you want?
Sanjar thought for a moment about how to best reconcile with his sister, then smiled slyly and suggested:
– Let me show you a new trick?
Quick footsteps were heard behind the door, and a few seconds later Zhaniya ran out into the living room, her face glowing with anticipation. She always adored tricks, especially when Sanjar showed them. She sat down on the ottoman, ready for a new magic show, her eyes literally shining with anticipation.
Sanjar, pleased that he had attracted her attention, stood opposite his young spectator. He began to manipulate the cards, deftly shuffling them in his hands so that they seemed alive, then took several other props out of his pocket – small balls, handkerchiefs, coins. Zhaniya did not take her eyes off him, her attention was riveted to every movement of her brother.
With each passing moment, the trick became more and more impressive. The cards magically disappeared and reappeared, the coins unexpectedly turned into multi-colored balls, and the handkerchiefs tied themselves into knots. Zhaniya sat, holding her breath, with a wide smile on her face.
However, their passion for magic was interrupted when Aida’s voice was heard from the kitchen:
– Children, you have to get up early tomorrow! Get ready for bed, tomorrow is work, university and school!
Zhaniya, although she sighed, her face still glowed with a smile. She looked at Sanzhar and said with sincere gratitude:
– Thank you, Sanzhar, it was great.
Sanzhar, feeling that the moment had come to finally settle the relationship, extended his hand to his sister and, smiling, said: “Peace?”
Zhaniya, still smiling, nodded vigorously and shook her brother’s hand firmly. It was their little reconciliation, a gesture that meant more to both of them than any words.
– I have a favor to ask of you, – Sanjar began, slightly nervous. – Can I hang your painting of the flying city in my room? I really liked it.
Zhaniya narrowed her eyes, her gaze became sly, but there was not a drop of offense in it:
– Okay, take my painting… but only if you play chess with me.
Sanjar raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing that chess was not his favorite game, but quickly agreed:
– Okay, for such a beautiful painting I am ready to play a game with you. Let’s do it tomorrow.
Zhaniya happily jumped up from the ottoman and ran to her room. A moment later she returned, holding the painting in her hands. She handed it to her brother with special trepidation, as if she were handing over something precious, and then, saying “Good night,” she ran back again. Sanzhar turned the painting over in his hands, admiring its details once more, and, with a slight smile on his face, went to his room. He felt that he had taken the right step by making peace with his sister, and with each step toward his room, this thought brought him inner peace and satisfaction.
1:9 Falling asleep. Sanzhar carefully closed the door to his room, leaving the evening bustle of the house behind it. Silence reigned inside, broken only by the muffled sounds of the night garden outside the window. The room was immersed in semi-darkness, which was barely dispelled by the light from the street lamps breaking through the curtains. Sanzhar put Zhaniya’s painting on the table and looked at it thoughtfully. The flying city depicted by his sister seemed simple and surprisingly complex at the same time, reflecting Sanzhar’s own inner world at that moment – full of contradictions and hidden meanings.
He slowly approached the bed and sat down on the edge, feeling how the softness of the mattress pleasantly gave in under his weight. Thoughts about the past day swirled in his head: his mother’s success, an awkward moment with Zhaniya, the technical difficulties of the project with Lesha. All this intertwined, forming a complex picture, like threads in thick fabric.
Sanzhar remembered his father’s words that the future depends on the efforts and diligence of each. These words, although simple, had a deep meaning that was only now beginning to reach him. He had always wanted to create something meaningful, to leave his mark on the world, to prove to himself and others that he was capable of more. The project with Lesha had ceased to be just a game – it had become the embodiment of his desire for self-realization. His gaze returned to the painting. “A flying city…” Sanzhar thought. There was something attractive in this image, something that made him think about the future. Perhaps Zhaniya’s childhood fantasy contained a metaphor for their shared dreams – a desire for more, for a world where they could realize themselves completely.
He carefully picked up the painting, feeling its fragility and at the same time its value. It was not just an image, but a symbol of their family connection, their hopes and desires. Sanzhar stood up and, finding a suitable place on the wall opposite the bed, carefully attached the painting. Now it had become part of his world, his personal space, reflecting those thoughts and feelings that he himself could not yet express in words. Sanzhar lay down on the bed, feeling how fatigue was gradually beginning to take over his body. He continued to look at the painting, allowing his thoughts to smoothly flow from one to another. Images flashed before his eyes: Lyosha, concentrating on the code; Zhaniya, smiling after reconciliation; Aida, proudly holding a Forbes magazine; and his father, always ready to support and give advice. His eyes slowly closed, but before he finally fell asleep, a thought flashed through his mind: “What if dreams about the future can actually become reality? What if flying cities are not just a fantasy, but a possible future that we can build?” With these thoughts, Sanzhar slowly fell asleep. He felt that something unusual was waiting for him ahead, something that would open up new horizons for him and lead to the most unexpected discoveries. Zhaniya’s painting was the last thing he saw before his consciousness finally fell silent, leaving him in the sweet embrace of sleep, where amazing adventures awaited him.
Chapter 2. Moving to the Emerald Era
2:1 The Man in the Hat. Sanzhar stretched as the old but reliable Subaru Forester smoothly stopped at the curb not far from KIMEP. The morning had barely begun to bloom, and the first rays of the sun were still timidly breaking through the light fog rising above the city. The cool morning air, slightly giving off freshness and dampness, filled the lungs with invigorating energy. The father, Erlan, turned to his son, his face lit up with a smile that reflected both pride in his son and hope for a new successful day.
– Have a nice day, son. Don’t forget about your goals, – said Erlan, gently patting his son on the shoulder.
– Thank you, dad, – Sanzhar replied, smiling back and carefully closing the car door.
Having closed the door, he lingered for a moment, watching his father slowly drive away, dissolving into the stream of cars that had already filled the city streets. Left alone on the deserted street, Sanzhar took a deep breath of the morning air, feeling how it filled him with energy and freshness. The day promised to be eventful, and he felt ready for any challenges that this day might bring.
He began his walk along the street leading to the university. The city was still dozing, silence hung in the air, broken only by the occasional sounds of the first cars and the voices of early passers-by. Walking past familiar buildings and shop windows, Sanzhar could not help but smile slightly. These morning walks to the university had become a kind of ritual for him, helping him tune in to the school day, immerse himself in his thoughts and prepare for new knowledge.
Approaching the entrance to KIMEP, Sanzhar noticed several familiar faces. Classmates and friends were already starting their day, exchanging greetings and short jokes, filling the space with the familiar and cozy noise of university life. He felt himself a part of this world, where every day brought something new, where every moment was full of discoveries. Suddenly his gaze caught the figure of a man sitting on a bench near the entrance. The man was dressed in an elegant suit, his face hidden under the shadow of a wide hat. In his hands he held a newspaper, unfolded so that Sanzhar could see only the top of the hat and a hand with a shiny emerald ring. The ring seemed to attract attention, shimmering in the sun.
Sanjar was about to pass by, but when he was close enough, the man suddenly spoke, his voice deep and confident:
– Young man, you have a talent for journalism and writing.
Sanjar froze in place, turning towards the voice. He saw that the man had lowered the newspaper, revealing his face. He was a man of about sixty, with piercing eyes and delicate features. He extended his hand, as if inviting him to meet.
– Nice to meet you, Sanjar, – the man said with a slight smile. – My name is Richard. Today is my first time at your university, I was invited to give a lecture on international trade.
Sanjar, still surprised by the unexpected address, extended his hand in response:
– Very pleased to meet you. How can I help you? Do you not know how to get to the lecture hall?
Richard shook his head slightly, his smile widening.
– No, thank you, I already know where to go, – he answered with a slight hint of mystery in his voice. – But you, Sanjar, may need my help.
Sanjar raised his eyebrows in surprise, not understanding what was being said.
“Help?” he asked again, trying to understand where this strange man was going with this. “I’m just a second-year student, I have nothing to do with international trade,” he laughed, trying to defuse the situation.
Richard leaned forward slightly, his voice became quieter, as if he was about to share a secret:
“You’re wrong, my dear. What I can offer will help not only you, but all of humanity,” Richard replied, his voice sounding as if he knew something that was inaccessible to others.
Sanjar felt a slight excitement mixed with bewilderment. His heart began to beat faster.
“So what is it?” he asked, trying not to show his excitement.
Richard stood up and, leaning towards Sanjar, said quietly, looking around:
“I will help you travel into the future, a hundred years ahead – to the year 3024. Your journey will only take a couple of minutes, here in 2024 no one will notice your absence.
These words sounded like a bolt from the blue. Sanzhar felt a chill run down his spine. He jumped back a step, his thoughts spinning, trying to comprehend what he heard.
– Sorry, but I have to go. This was interesting, but I’m late for class, – he said quickly, feeling his anxiety growing.
– Of course, Sanzhar. See you later. See you later! – Richard answered with a smile, unfolding his newspaper again.
Sanzhar muttered words of farewell and quickly walked towards the university. His heart was still beating faster than usual, and his thoughts were chaotically rushing about, searching for a logical explanation for what had happened. He looked back to make sure the man was not following him, but Richard was already immersed in reading the newspaper, as if nothing had happened. Having reached the auditorium, Sanzhar stopped in front of the door, trying to calm his breathing and collect his thoughts. Before him was a normal school day, but something inside told him that this day would be the beginning of something unusual, something that could change his life forever.
2:2 Strange movement. Sanzhar, still slightly shaken by the strange meeting with Richard, quickly crossed the courtyard of KIMEP and headed towards the building where the cinematography class was about to begin. As soon as he entered through the glass doors, he felt the coolness of the air conditioner, which contrasted sharply with the warm morning air outside. He paused for a moment, trying to calm down and switch to the upcoming classes, but thoughts about the meeting with Richard did not leave him.
He headed for the stairs leading to the second floor, where the cinematography hall was located. The stairs were wide, with marble steps, dimly lit by the morning light coming through the large windows. Sanzhar climbed them, thinking about the upcoming film viewing, trying to distract himself from the strange events that had happened in the morning.
The cinematography hall was one of his favorite places at the university. It had an atmosphere of immersion in art, where each film became the subject of detailed analysis and discussion. Sanzhar always looked forward to these classes, as they allowed him to delve deeper into the world of cinema, to understand the intricacies of the plot, the director’s tricks and the camera work.
But when he entered the corridor leading to the hall, his gaze was immediately drawn to the figure standing at the far end. It was the same Richard he had just met at the entrance to the university. Sanzhar stopped, feeling a slight shudder run through his body. “How could he have ended up here so quickly?” he thought, slowly approaching the figure. It seemed that Richard was standing there specifically to meet him again, as if he wanted to prove that his strange offer was not just words, but a real possibility.
“Ah, here you are again,” Richard said with a soft smile as Sanzhar came closer. There was a slight satisfaction in his voice, as if he was glad to see the surprise on the young man’s face. “I hope I didn’t scare you too much?” Sanzhar felt his heart start beating faster again. He tried to find the words, but there was only one thing in his head – how did this man get here so quickly?
– No, of course not, – answered Sanjar, trying not to show his excitement. – It’s just that the offer was… unexpected, that’s all.
Richard nodded, as if understanding all the doubts that tormented Sanjar.
“It’s natural,” he said, looking straight into the young man’s eyes. “It’s not every day that you’re offered time travel. But believe me, this offer makes much more sense than it might seem at first glance.”
Sanjar looked at Richard, feeling his inner tension growing. It was as if it were real, but at the same time everything seemed unreal, as if he found himself in the center of some fantastic story that he himself was not yet ready to believe.
