The Last Dream about Delia York

And Jennings with Peter began working on the speech, sitting in a cozy corner of the small shop, which was very quiet. The discussion of John Lennon's life was in full swing, but the conversation died down a little when Earl Knight suddenly stood up and said:

"Well, I guess I better go," Earl said, looking at his interlocutors with a slight, almost imperceptible regret. "It's late, and the cash register... well, how can I say this, I'm already closed, heh."

Peter looked a little confused.

"Oh, you... want to leave?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "But we're talking about John Lennon here. Aren't you interested?"

Earl grinned, but his smile was somehow unnatural, almost painful.

"You know, guys," he said, moving toward the door, "I've always been less interested in John Lennon than in those who investigate crimes. You know, detectives, investigations, and, frankly, philosophy are a bit tiring. But the cash register - yes, you can always spend many interesting hours with it. But the empathy I've bestowed upon you, well, it's a bit too strange for all of you, right? And for me too, I suppose.

A tense silence fell over the room after his last words. Delia Asia Vieira, standing nearby, felt a slight uneasiness. She quickly glanced at Peter and Jennings to gauge their reactions.

"What do you mean, Earl?" Jennings asked, finally breaking the silence. "Are you really going to leave without even finishing this conversation?"

Earl shook his head and, stamping his feet slightly, as if nervously snapping his fingers, said:

"Time, my friends, is the most valuable thing we have. And if I lose it, it will be, let's say, extremely unfortunate for all of us. You all talk about philosophy, history and people, but you know what's important? It's how someone comes and goes, leaving a trace that can be measured. And my watch is ticking, and it's time for me to go back to the store."

Jennings looked at him, smiling slightly, and there was a mixture of surprise and even disappointment in his voice:

"Earl, you're a man," he said. "Couldn't you have stayed a little longer, just to finish the conversation? We're not just discussing Lennon."

But Earl just shrugged, smiling reservedly, and hurried toward the door.

"I'll be glad to see you all, but right now I need to go there," he said with a slight, almost playful wink.

When the door closed behind him, the shop was quiet again. No one spoke, and for a moment they just stood there, looking at each other.

Peter, still a little confused, sighed:

"What a guy this Earl is. Why is he always so weird?"

Jennings shrugged and smiled:

"I think he thinks too much about things that are not always understandable. He is like an old fox who knows all the secrets but prefers to remain silent."

Delia shook her head, smiling slightly:

"He seemed to be polite, but... his behavior definitely makes us feel uncomfortable."

"That's true," Jennings replied. "But he seems to prefer to keep his distance. Sometimes it's probably better to be a little distant than too involved."

Peter glanced at the door, as if expecting Earl to return. But its silence only confirmed that their strange interlocutor had left.

"Well then," he said, "let's continue. Lennon and his philosophy... In the end, that's all we need."

But then suddenly in the cozy little shop where our heroes continued to talk, a sound was heard, and Delia Asia Vieira, seemingly calmly looking at her interlocutors, suddenly looked slightly warily at the screen built into her hand. After a couple of seconds, a slight wrinkle appeared on it, as if she was thinking.

"Oh," she said in a tone that could even be called apologetic, "I think it's time for you to go to bed, Peter."

All three froze, and Peter, who was just about to interject his remark about Lennon's musical career, looked up at robotess in shock.

"What?" he asked, not quite understanding what had happened. "But I don't... I don't want to sleep. I can still..."

"I understand," Delia Asia Vieira replied. "But according to the program, you already need to rest. It's time for sleep."

Jennings, who was used to strange and sometimes not very logical moments in life, just sighed and looked at Peter.

"Well, you don't want robotess to mess up her programming, do you?" he said with a slight grin. "So come on, Peter, let's go find a motel for three."

Peter, still with a displeased expression on his face, stood up from his seat and ran his hand through his hair.

"But I don't want to sleep, my friend. This is New York! How can you just lie down and forget about everything?"

"You'll have everything," Delia Asia Vieira answered calmly, heading for the door. "But if you don't rest, you'll be like a zombie the next day. And we don't want that, do we?"

Peter might have protested a little longer, but he realized that it was no use arguing with a program that was unlikely to ever make a mistake. Jennings, noticing his silence, nodded to him and followed him out.

Night New York greeted them with the sounds of distant horns of cars, occasional headlights passing by, and the general cozy noise of a city that never slept. As they walked, Peter tried to think about what to do next. He realized that the sooner they found a place to spend the night, the sooner he could join in the conversations and follow the adventures again.

"I see a motel up ahead," Jennings said, noticing bright lights in the distance. "We'll probably have something there that'll sleep the three of us. Don't worry."

"Okay," Peter muttered, "but I still don't like this idea."

Delia Asia Vieira walked ahead, unhurried and focused as always. She knew she could be much faster, but this time she decided to wait for the others. Peter, clenching his hands into fists, tried to cope with his irritation.

"How far do we have to go?" he finally asked, continuing to follow them.