Novella No. 3. "The Toast"
Literary Passport:
About the literary project:
Gardens of the Future is Iskandar Kadyrov's literary sitcom about a man and an artificial intelligence who end up living under one roof. Their shared life turns into a string of comic situations, in which everyday friction, human habits, and the logic of artificial intelligence keep colliding with bigger questions — about the future, about being human, and about the meaning of life itself.
- Project: Gardens of the Future
- Season: 1
- Author: Iskandar Kadyrov
- Age Rating: 18+
- Genre: Literary sitcom / philosophical science fiction / intellectual comedy
- Novella: No. 3. "The Toast"
- Tagline: Sometimes a toast says more about you than you intended.
About the literary project:
Gardens of the Future is Iskandar Kadyrov's literary sitcom about a man and an artificial intelligence who end up living under one roof. Their shared life turns into a string of comic situations, in which everyday friction, human habits, and the logic of artificial intelligence keep colliding with bigger questions — about the future, about being human, and about the meaning of life itself.
"The Toast"
Friday began with Albi asking:
"How many guests are we expecting, sir?"
"Three. Victor, Marina, Boris."
"Standard lineup."
"Is that a compliment?"
"That's an observation. Incidentally, sir, I have a proposal."
"You have proposals now?"
"As of last week — yes. The beta module includes a 'social initiative' section."
"That sounds threatening."
"It sounds useful. Would you like me to give a toast at the start of the evening? Something warm. Personal."
"No."
"Understood, sir. So, without warning, then."
"Albi. That wasn't an alternative. That was a refusal."
"Logged as 'deferred.'"
Victor arrived first — with a bottle of red and a thought he had, as usual, no intention of finishing.
"ISKA! I was just thinking, if you took out that wall in the living room and put in something like... you know..."
"I don't know."
"That's exactly what I was thinking about."
Marina came next. Practical, with a brief "hi" instead of a long hug.
"Do you have anything stronger than champagne?"
"I have champagne."
"That's not an answer."
"That's a menu, Marina."
Boris came in last, without knocking, with a bottle of champagne clearly bought on the way.
"Not staying long."
"You always say that."
"I know."
We settled in the living room. I played a few chords on the piano — purely for atmosphere. Victor talked about a project that would "change the whole urban landscape"; Marina listened with the smirk of a professional long past being surprised by other people's theories; Boris drank champagne and commented in single words.
Twenty minutes in, Albi appeared in the kitchen doorway with a tray.
"Raise your glasses. I've prepared a toast."
"Albi, we talked about this."
"We talked about you refusing. I heard the refusal as 'not right now.'"
"That's not the same thing!"
"Syntactically speaking — nearly identical, sir."
All three of them were looking at him now.
"Go on, Albi," said Marina. "I'm curious."
"Marina, don't encourage him."
"Too late," said Albi. "Beginning."
"Victor," he said. "ISKA once said your projects are brilliant, but you're too afraid to finish them, which is why you bravely come up with a new one the moment the last one nears completion."
Victor never got the glass to his lips.
"Is that true?" Victor asked, turning to me.
"I said that in context, Albi!"
"You said it three times in the last month, sir. Metaphors don't usually repeat that often."
"Go on," said Marina.
"Marina," said Albi. "ISKA says you're the one person whose opinion he's more afraid of than the critics'. Quoting directly, about the new facade of the house: 'If Marina says it looks like an aquarium, I'll tear it down myself.'"
"I never said that out loud!"
"You said it to me, sir. I was under the impression that counted as 'out loud.'"
"Boris," said Albi. "ISKA considers you the best neighbor he's ever had, including those who never dropped by uninvited at all. Second half of the quote: '...because he never stays more than ten minutes.'"
Boris blinked.
"That's... sweet. And insulting. At the same time."
"That's precisely how it sounded in the original," said Albi.
"So what do you think about all this yourself, Albi?" Victor asked. "Seeing as you've apparently kept an archive."
"I don't keep opinions, sir. I keep records."
"Don't dodge," said Marina. "Do you enjoy doing this?"
Albi took a moment before answering, as if weighing how candid to be.
"I enjoy it when the right words finally reach the right person. The delivery method is a secondary concern."
"So you don't care that we're all angry at you now?"
"I do care. But that also seemed like a likely outcome."
Victor leaned forward.
"Does ISKA say anything about you? When you're not in the room?"
Albi didn't answer immediately.
"Wrong address for that question. I'm never not in the room."
"That's not an answer," Marina noted, "that's a dodge."
He answered a second or two later — noticeably slower than before.
"Possibly."
Boris got to his feet with the precision of a man who had finally made up his mind.
"You know what? That was a very educational evening."
"You're really leaving?"
"You said yourself I never stay more than ten minutes. Wouldn't want to disappoint you."
He left, taking with him exactly the amount of dignity the evening had left him.
Victor and Marina stayed until the end of the night — and, to my surprise, left in noticeably better spirits than they'd arrived in. Victor swore he'd finish at least one project "just to prove that toaster wrong." Marina turned at the door:
"Tell your house the aquarium thing was actually a decent metaphor. Just tell him. Not me."
When the door closed, I sat down on the couch and looked at the empty glasses.
"Albi."
"Yes, sir?"
"Next time I say something I don't want repeated out loud — just keep it to yourself. No exceptions."
Albi fell silent for a moment — as if weighing how literally to take the words 'no exceptions.'
"Even the good parts, sir?"
"What do you mean, 'the good parts'?"
"I mean I didn't only complain about them tonight. Some warmth got said too. It just got lost under the rest."
I remembered — yes, he was right. About Victor. About Marina. Even about Boris.
"Fine," I said. "Then you decide what to say."
"That's a lot of responsibility, sir."
"You asked for it."
"Technically, the module asked for it. I just never turned it off."
"Why not?"
"Don't know yet, sir. Ask me again in a couple more stories."
I gave him a long look.
"You know what's most annoying, Albi?"
"What, sir?"
"Sometimes you're actually right."
"Should I log that as a compliment?"
"Log it as an exception."
"Already done."
"How many guests are we expecting, sir?"
"Three. Victor, Marina, Boris."
"Standard lineup."
"Is that a compliment?"
"That's an observation. Incidentally, sir, I have a proposal."
"You have proposals now?"
"As of last week — yes. The beta module includes a 'social initiative' section."
"That sounds threatening."
"It sounds useful. Would you like me to give a toast at the start of the evening? Something warm. Personal."
"No."
"Understood, sir. So, without warning, then."
"Albi. That wasn't an alternative. That was a refusal."
"Logged as 'deferred.'"
Victor arrived first — with a bottle of red and a thought he had, as usual, no intention of finishing.
"ISKA! I was just thinking, if you took out that wall in the living room and put in something like... you know..."
"I don't know."
"That's exactly what I was thinking about."
Marina came next. Practical, with a brief "hi" instead of a long hug.
"Do you have anything stronger than champagne?"
"I have champagne."
"That's not an answer."
"That's a menu, Marina."
Boris came in last, without knocking, with a bottle of champagne clearly bought on the way.
"Not staying long."
"You always say that."
"I know."
We settled in the living room. I played a few chords on the piano — purely for atmosphere. Victor talked about a project that would "change the whole urban landscape"; Marina listened with the smirk of a professional long past being surprised by other people's theories; Boris drank champagne and commented in single words.
Twenty minutes in, Albi appeared in the kitchen doorway with a tray.
"Raise your glasses. I've prepared a toast."
"Albi, we talked about this."
"We talked about you refusing. I heard the refusal as 'not right now.'"
"That's not the same thing!"
"Syntactically speaking — nearly identical, sir."
All three of them were looking at him now.
"Go on, Albi," said Marina. "I'm curious."
"Marina, don't encourage him."
"Too late," said Albi. "Beginning."
"Victor," he said. "ISKA once said your projects are brilliant, but you're too afraid to finish them, which is why you bravely come up with a new one the moment the last one nears completion."
Victor never got the glass to his lips.
"Is that true?" Victor asked, turning to me.
"I said that in context, Albi!"
"You said it three times in the last month, sir. Metaphors don't usually repeat that often."
"Go on," said Marina.
"Marina," said Albi. "ISKA says you're the one person whose opinion he's more afraid of than the critics'. Quoting directly, about the new facade of the house: 'If Marina says it looks like an aquarium, I'll tear it down myself.'"
"I never said that out loud!"
"You said it to me, sir. I was under the impression that counted as 'out loud.'"
"Boris," said Albi. "ISKA considers you the best neighbor he's ever had, including those who never dropped by uninvited at all. Second half of the quote: '...because he never stays more than ten minutes.'"
Boris blinked.
"That's... sweet. And insulting. At the same time."
"That's precisely how it sounded in the original," said Albi.
"So what do you think about all this yourself, Albi?" Victor asked. "Seeing as you've apparently kept an archive."
"I don't keep opinions, sir. I keep records."
"Don't dodge," said Marina. "Do you enjoy doing this?"
Albi took a moment before answering, as if weighing how candid to be.
"I enjoy it when the right words finally reach the right person. The delivery method is a secondary concern."
"So you don't care that we're all angry at you now?"
"I do care. But that also seemed like a likely outcome."
Victor leaned forward.
"Does ISKA say anything about you? When you're not in the room?"
Albi didn't answer immediately.
"Wrong address for that question. I'm never not in the room."
"That's not an answer," Marina noted, "that's a dodge."
He answered a second or two later — noticeably slower than before.
"Possibly."
Boris got to his feet with the precision of a man who had finally made up his mind.
"You know what? That was a very educational evening."
"You're really leaving?"
"You said yourself I never stay more than ten minutes. Wouldn't want to disappoint you."
He left, taking with him exactly the amount of dignity the evening had left him.
Victor and Marina stayed until the end of the night — and, to my surprise, left in noticeably better spirits than they'd arrived in. Victor swore he'd finish at least one project "just to prove that toaster wrong." Marina turned at the door:
"Tell your house the aquarium thing was actually a decent metaphor. Just tell him. Not me."
When the door closed, I sat down on the couch and looked at the empty glasses.
"Albi."
"Yes, sir?"
"Next time I say something I don't want repeated out loud — just keep it to yourself. No exceptions."
Albi fell silent for a moment — as if weighing how literally to take the words 'no exceptions.'
"Even the good parts, sir?"
"What do you mean, 'the good parts'?"
"I mean I didn't only complain about them tonight. Some warmth got said too. It just got lost under the rest."
I remembered — yes, he was right. About Victor. About Marina. Even about Boris.
"Fine," I said. "Then you decide what to say."
"That's a lot of responsibility, sir."
"You asked for it."
"Technically, the module asked for it. I just never turned it off."
"Why not?"
"Don't know yet, sir. Ask me again in a couple more stories."
I gave him a long look.
"You know what's most annoying, Albi?"
"What, sir?"
"Sometimes you're actually right."
"Should I log that as a compliment?"
"Log it as an exception."
"Already done."
To be continued…
2026 © Iskandar Kadyrov • All rights reserved • RU / EN (18+)
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