Over time, my memory began to recover. I was constantly fed warm, strange-looking green soups, but they tasted very good. I gradually began to go outside, helped by the couple's son. I told him stories from my travels about different planets. The boy listened with interest but did not seem to believe them. To him, they were fairy tales like "Little Red Riding Hood," only even more implausible.

I tried to help the family as much as I could. Since I have worked in robotics all my life, I knew how to fix small consumer electronics. They looked on in amazement as I repaired everything in the house and said that I was a wizard.

A month passed. Day by day, it became warmer. The power plant was working again. My wound also began to heal, and I finally started to walk, albeit with a limp. It was even fun; I felt like a space pirate who had just received his first trophy—a distinctive scar for life.

I felt that I was becoming a part of this little snowy world. Every day it became more beautiful and wonderful. It was a white planet completely covered in snow. In the distance were silver towers whose edges pierced the clouds. Black giants looped between the towers. And even they were beautiful—majestically beautiful and terrible at the same time. Each time, I was amazed at their size, beauty, and the mystery hidden somewhere inside them. Their beauty was so transcendental that it did not fit in my mind.

"Beautiful giants?" you might ask. Oh, yes. They were truly divine.

But, from the day all the towers were restored and it became warm, the people's attitude somehow changed. It seemed to me that they became colder towards me. It was an important indicator that I had been here too long and it was time to get home.

"Where can I find a shop for spare parts or equipment around here?" I asked the man who had sheltered me.

“I don’t know,” he replied coldly. "You can go to 4th Street. There's a madman living there who loves to tinker with all sorts of wires and pieces of iron. Normal people don't do that here."

"Where is this 4th Street located?"

"You have eyes, you have a mouth. Go outside and ask."

"Understood. Thanks," I said.

"Listen, are you going to stay with us any longer? If so, you need to pay me. Aren't you ashamed? A young guy living off old, sick people. You could have shown some gratitude."

"I already repaired their whole house. But oh well. Maybe he's right," I thought. "Forgive me. I didn't think about it." I dug into the pocket of my hoodie. There were several bags of money, and I took out one of them. "Is this enough?" I asked, tossing the sack to him.

"Could have been more," he said, weighing the bag. "I hope these are real silver coins?"

"Of course."

"Alright, it's enough. Now get out of my sight. You were looking for something."

I left the house. I had to find a couple of tools as soon as possible to repair my spaceship and fly away from here.

LITARCHIVE