CHAPTER 11. THE ROYAL LOTTERY.

January 11, 1569.

Suddenly agitated by an unbridled, furious, and seemingly uncontrollable noise emanating from within the depths of the structure, a frail, barely visible snowfly swiftly soared onto the uncommonly grimy wall of its current dwelling. It moved faster and faster with each passing moment, approaching the remarkably massive vault. It knew that only by climbing up could it find relative safety and, just as importantly, gain a comprehensive understanding of the chaotic noise that had just been created in its home. From this vantage point, it could also observe everything happening below on the ground. As it moved higher and higher toward the vault, its very essence experienced a genuine, albeit fleeting, sense of happiness. It was extraordinarily grateful to its unknown, unseen creator for allowing creatures like itself the great ease of movement, not only on the ground like a dog, horse, or cheetah but also on the structures, plants, and other elevations, regardless of their material or height.

A few more seconds, and it successfully reached the vault, which was, it must be noted, remarkable in its singularity. Its exceedingly long limbs relaxed somewhat, and its vision sharpened considerably. Having so diligently and persistently achieved its goal, it impatiently turned its gaze downward, into the world where it had been just moments before. People! It discerned countless people! It had previously come to know the rather peculiar nature of human actions—they were killers! Just a few days earlier, they had, in truth, mercilessly destroyed all its brethren who had recently been born into this world. Why did they do such a thing? It was unknown to the snowfly. However, it knew perfectly well that it must, for the sake of its own existence and the existence of its offspring, absolutely avoid any and all contact with humans.

Chaotically sifting through all the disturbing thoughts in its tiny head, the aforementioned snowfly climbed even higher on the vault. It understood, profoundly understood, what a human being was capable of. But did it truly understand? No! It could only hypothesize, and its hypotheses could only be based on the nature and characteristics of past actions, which were undoubtedly incapable of differing significantly from future actions. This is because nature, and consequently humanity as an integral part of all-encompassing nature, has, since its creation, been inherently endowed with certain regularities, laws of logic, sequence, and principles of uniformity.

"Long live Her Majesty! Long live Queen Elizabeth!" these words were distinctly audible amidst the general, incomprehensible chaos of sounds, not only in their physical nature but also in their metaphysical nature, which human mouths were able to produce in one way or another.

"Who is this 'Her Majesty'? Who is this 'Queen Elizabeth'? Why do these people constantly, with insane fervor, wish her a strong, unbreakable, and unwavering reign? How, how is she different from all those people who are now beneath my light-brown being… from all those at whom my keen gaze is now directed?" These thoughts flashed through the snowfly's consciousness. "Apparently, she is their leader and performs the very social role, or, if you will, the very social duties, that the queen of the extraordinarily diligent ants performs in her turn. How else can I explain to myself such frantic, such desperate worship and reverence? If that's the case, if her lot, if her destiny is only to reap the fruits, to reap the labors of others, of more active, more remarkable, more thrifty members of that kind, then I... I can only feel sympathy... no, not for her!... no, not for them!... but for their entire kind. Their past, present, and future purpose has long since been predetermined from the moment this hierarchy was created! Oh! How glad I am that I belong to a different kind—not to the human kind and not to the ant kind! I am independent! I am self-reliant! I am alone! We don't need colonies, hierarchies, and other insane social formations to exist! I am free! It is this very freedom that allows me to grovel before no one! I am completely entrusted to myself, even if, at times, natural instincts and, accordingly, a natural purpose stir within me! My will is in no way connected with the will of some creature who has, for some reason, been endowed with power and might! No! I am not a warrior! I am not a builder! I am not a worker! I am not a scout and not a hunter! I am not a woodworm and not a reaper! I am a snowfly! And my life is not tied to a corresponding profession, which has, for some reason, been placed on my shoulders! A profession does not predetermine my life, for I have no profession! When needed, I become a warrior! When my existence requires it, I build something! When the time demands it, I turn into a hunter! Only I, or rather only my instincts and my predetermination, decide who I will be now, who I will be today!... And people, people, judging by everything I've seen now, are no better than ants! They scurry around so their ruler has something to eat and a place to live—they scurry around in the hope that they will be able to leave one social group and move to another social group, one that is more significant in its position, yet by no means more significant in the labor it performs! They are blind! Blind, like the well-known representatives of the Thrikin genus! What does their ruler do for them? They, for reasons unknown, due to natural instincts passed down from generation to generation, thank her with a frenzy! Does she give them food and shelter? They continuously wish her a long life! Does she not amuse herself, constantly contemplating their work and no less constantly enjoying the current state of affairs? They yearn with indescribable hope for her to grant their world offspring! It is amazing! However, I have never seen her in this place before—in a place where there were always a lot of people, but today... especially! Why did she gather her subjects today? Why in this very place? All of this is very mysterious! Ant queens never leave the confines of their anthill of their own free will, but her... I am seeing her here for the first time! Amazing! Perhaps... people are different from ants after all? I need to figure this out! I need to study this—and I will begin this study right now, or rather, this study is already underway at this very moment: I am observing them, and they will never see me! People! They truly enjoy studying the nature, properties, and motives of my brethren's actions with indescribable enthusiasm! Now, with a similar enthusiasm, I will study them! I—the one who, in a thoughtless search for shelter, recently wandered into this place! But... are these people not my guests? Or am I, am I their guest—or did I, without realizing it, end up in the depths of their anthill? Enough of these foolish thoughts! Let's see what will happen next! St. Paul's Cathedral... who is this Paul and why is this building named after him?... London... I know this city!... ten shillings... ah, little silver moons!... 400,000 lottery tickets... what are these people talking about?... profit, prizes, gold... ah, little golden suns!... What a surprising sequence of words! Do they have meaning or are they just chaos? What is this place? What are these people? What are they going to do now? St. Paul's Cathedral! The inhabitants of London! The Lottery! Their Queen, whose appearance I can now perfectly make out, is currently on the steps of this building, this temple—her mouth has uttered certain words... her subjects have fallen silent! They are listening to her every word with indescribable attention! Enough! I am sick of their words—sick of them because my mind can no longer interpret them! Let the Queen speak, and let the people listen! That is their lot, that is their purpose! My instinct... ceaselessly compels me to find food, and so I must descend from these heights to the ground as soon as possible!"