The Celestial Logistic

sobornov_m

SkyGate S vs LoGate G

Cathedral logic Sobornova Moscow Rus

Satirical Roman Novel 2026

Tg English: https://t.me/heli_loader

Tg Russian: https://t.me/heli_asia

Chapter 5.5. Ego forklift: Marine vagin G transit

A notch for a stash.

A forklift for a fork in your road.

After meeting with the Cathedral Logician of the Seventy seventh Heaven of SkyGate S, Misha immediately got on a sled and sloped down the steep hill to his brother Tish in LoGate G. Now Tish would calm him down. He would put everything on shelves in his warehouse so that Misha could sleep. At least poorly.

On Tish’s half, they were arguing.

— Reallocation of transaction quality under article fifty four point one? The Cloud Service will have to prove that the separation of our goals was solely for the Sake of ours. They might not like it.

— You mean that we are intentionally separating goals?

— The Cloud Service cannot like the fact that we are saving beyond their clouds! In their opinion we are shelling. They gather their clouds, they work hard!

— Not like it?! Why, we are bringing them golden eggs. Look how beautiful they are!

Tish showed a hard boiled egg with large numbers 66.6 on its side.

— Three sixes is cool, — Tish was bursting like a turkey.

— And what if, in their opinion, we keep the golden ones for ourselves? They will shift it into the plane of transfer pricing under article one hundred and fifth.

— Tanja, a manual check by the IRS, the Infernal Revenue Service, for short, it takes a long time. It’s a red sun. You know: before it dies. But no one likes to drag along being sun burned, even on clouds. That’s your job: to fashion docs, calculations for god's sake.

— You’re right. The Cloud Inspection simply hates such cases. — Answered Tanja’s voice on the speaker phone. She hung up.

— What kind of cases? — Misha asked.

— Semi gemy. You’re a strategist, Mikhail. Prove that you will give the snow job to the cloud service, just like you outsmarted the special correspondent of the Sobornov Cathedral.

— Are you so sure I beat him? — Misha frowned, knitting his brows.

Tish smirked.

— Inspectors love simple one day stands. Like when a firm transferred money for thin air. But our logistics is a deep swamp.

— Yes. But we are an attractive cake. They are no idiots sitting in the cloud inspection either.

— Exactly. No fools are going to write tons of scribbles about why the fifty second SICk at the sunniest dealer makes our Log 8 a redundant link.

— You’re right. Bureaucracy is there even on the Seventh Heaven. With you, they will have to calculate the amount of disaster: to separate the real damage from your personal markups. On site audits are a Myth. It’s not for nothing that I’m a Mythist. — Misha smiled contentedly.

Tish grinned predatorily.

Misha added, — Log 8 is a puzzle like the hieroglyphs 洛丐特 . It needs to be made unsolvable for the Cloud Service.

— The sunlight dealer has no direct agreements for supplies to the sinful earth. And we have an FEA foreign economic profile, so they can’t touch us. We carry Helios sunny forklift rays!

— And won't the sun dealer Heli Copter twitch?

— Then I will instantly cancel all their requests, reservations. Deliveries of Celestial forklifts to the capital city will grind to a halt for them. Even a sun dealer cannot rewrite contracts to a new entity in a day. The Celestial Empire is hanging by a thread with me.

— By a thread? How modest of you! More like you have them by the balls.

Tish smirked modestly. But Misha choked.

— But what about the SkyGate S special agents like Arch. Mikhail?

— Aliens from Ghinese Anhui will land on the Red Square sooner than this Cloud Agent descends to us again. Who is going to dig into the polished primary docs of a multy tier pie for the sake of shelling? Why the hell would they get into your family underwear and want to know how the pie was baked?

— I believe we have everything under control. Agree to your separation.

— Then get faked divorced yourself! — Misha frowned.

— I can’t, Mish, — Tish leaned toward his brother closely. He gently but firmly wrapped his arm around his neck. — Bruta loves control too much. Not like your romantic blonde who didn’t use protection. If I get a divorce, I’m done for. Got it?

— I get it, — Mikhail drew out thoughtfully.

For the first time, he felt genuine sympathy for his brother. Misha understood that Fola would never go against her motherhood. This couldn’t be compared to Tish’s single offspring. For a moment, a thought flashed: why two healthy people didn't even replicate themselves? After all, they weren't forcibly cut off of this happiness. But Tish was pathologically stingy in everything; it was his very deep nature. Misha answered his mirror reflection with agreement.

As a parting shot, he still mumbled feebly, — Maybe change the system? Create a white structure that nobody won’t pick on?

— When you walk on a dirty road, you can not help but get your feet dirty. Besides, walking the white path is boring. Boring and sad.

— And there is no one to offer a hand in a moment of blue. — Misha picked up his brother's line.

— The dealer is just a trading house, it can neither fly nor swim, — Tish added.

— But they know how to carry plus lift, — Misha noted. — Isn’t the right to steer a lift prescribed in Forklift’s charter? I read that it is. Isn't it strange that instead of carrying the cargo themselves, Forklift's commercial director hands these orders over to his task split with a zero duty? And then lands it in his personal warehouse which he just opened. That’s objective. — Misha added, worrying about the rear.

In the end, now they are tied to each other even tighter through his, Misha’s, upcoming sham of playfull divorcy. It’s hard to say where divorcy turns into mirage. Or vice versa.

— Tish, you are pulling chestnuts out of the fire, — he said aloud.

— Yes. I like it. It’s the one thing that gives at least some taste to life. One must not just manage, — Tish squeezed his lips. — Forklift is the Dragon's Trove 叉车 /chāchē/, after all. See the first hieroglyph 叉? That’s not just forklift prongs. It's a fork road. A crossroads. And I am their assembly, the driver 叉车司机 /chāchē sījī/. With one tine you need to hook the goods in the Celestial Empire, with the second the profit on the sinful earth, and on the lift 车 itself, give the Cloud Inspection a ride. Up and down, until they lose their minds.

— And isn’t this, by chance, an artificial siphoning of the duty revenue base? Siphoning net profit from a company with 20 percent to an interdependent counter party?

— Mish, you’ve worn me out with your nagging. Harping on: forklift, transfer points, duties... Forklift only knows how to lift pallets with iron. Maybe you’ll also say that we need to help the front because the country is fighting with its last ounce of strength? Right now we need a completely different lift. A different kind of fork. Let old grannies wield pitchforks and knit socks. Why don't we go chasing mermaids instead?

— Any specifics?

— Sure! Look here, — Tish turned the tablet screen toward his brother. — Right under logate, there is a whole trainload of what we love.

— Of carriages? — Misha squinted, trying to make out the HS code.

— Forget the naval marinas, we are talking wet marinas—vaginas! Consumables. Medical profile. Elite trainers for strengthening the intimate muscles of Celestial heroes! A real warehouse of pleasure.

— Won't we get burned? If the personal Cloud Inspection busts this carriage, sticks its long nose in there?

— Put on a poker face. We’ll call ourselves, let’s say... — Tish lowered his voice, — well, not here! Let’s get out of here. I’ll show you everything. Where, how. No IRS, Internal Resurrection Service, will ever rich us there.

—Is it the one in the 9th floor?

— Exactly! Let's go!

NEXT Part: click

1. First part on telegra ph

2. Second part on telegra ph

3. Third part on telegra ph

4. Fourth part on telegra ph

5. Fifth part on telegra ph

6. Sixth part on telegra ph

7. Seventh part on telegra ph

Teaser, ProLog, Preface

1. Gemini Constellation