"Let's go back to the camp. There's still a lot of work to do, not everyone's shelters are as reliable as your boss's."
"That's for sure, he built himself a royal barn."
"Yeah, and right next to him, there's a family - father, mother, and a ten-year-old son. So their shelter is just a name, they just fixed a pole like a crossbar between two trees and threw some branches on it. One side is well covered, but the other side is all open. They huddle there."
"And where are you all looking?"
"Sasha, what's that got to do with us? Alexey Gennadyevich is our leader. This guy had a falling out with him - and that's that..."
"Let's go then, let's have a look," Alexander hastened, "And let's not spread rumors about magic for now. Tell all our people, but not the others."
Affirmative nods were his answer.
The sought-after shelter was quickly found. Its occupants were nearby. With grim faces, they worked to make it a reliable shelter. Even the ten-year-old boy was serious and worked alongside the adults.
"Do you need help?" The man looked rather sourly at the visitors.
"We won't refuse help," the woman quickly said, glancing at her husband.
Alexander inspected the work area. The shelter was a typical construction erected by the people abandoned in this new world on the first day. It was somehow attached transversely to a pole, onto which branches were thrown to form a sloping roof, with a hearth underneath and a campfire nearby.
The roof itself only protected the direction that was most prone to light exposure; all other sides of the shelter were open. Throughout the camp, similar constructions had long been turned into much more sturdy structures, some even as recently as yesterday. However, this particular hardworking man, for some reason, still had only a poor semblance of a shelter, and realizing this fact, he worked furiously to improve it.
Assessing the scope of work and ensuring that the main crossbar was set very securely, Alexander decided to lift and tilt the angled poles, creating a roof over his head. All that was needed was to place X-shaped supports parallel to the main log and strengthen them with another crossbar, turning the slanting poles into a slightly sloping roof. Sharing his idea with the shelter's owner, he encountered only a spiteful comment.
"You think I don't understand?! That's exactly what I wanted to do. But you see, there are no 'additional poles' in the camp, and I have to chop them down myself if I want to build myself a 'palace'."
Understanding where this was coming from, Alexander didn't bother to pursue the matter further.
"Well then, we'll go and chop some down now, and you gather leaves and moss in the meantime."
"What nonsense about the lack of poles in the camp?" he asked when they went outside the camp to find suitable trees for building materials.
"I'm telling you, this guy, his name is Slava, had a quarrel with Alexey Gennadyevich. Just yesterday. They had a big fight. You see, yesterday he first got into the collective work like crazy and worked for two, and by evening he found out that something like a wigwam had been built for him and his family, and a couple of branches had been thrown on top, saying, 'the rest is up to you.' What you saw - he rebuilt it himself by evening. After arguing with our 'great' leader."
"And what was he doing all morning today?"
This time, instead of Yevgeny, it was Konstantin who answered:
"And he was put to work for the common good again in the morning. I heard your Gennadyevich was all over him. And this Slava - he's clearly one of those who would move mountains for the collective."
"And what happened?"
"And nothing. Some were not satisfied, of course. But they kept silent."
"And you?"
"And we kept silent too. We got tired of arguing with that idiot."
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