Once upon a time there lived a grandfather and grandmother. They lived in a large, beautiful house surrounded by a high fence. The house had an alarm system, and the property was guarded by two enormous dogs—English mastiffs. They had everything their hearts could desire: a beautiful expensive foreign car, a yacht with snow-white sails, and their own airfield where their private aeroplanes and helicopters were kept.
They had bought the airfield specifically to distribute eggs around the world—eggs laid by hens on their own farm. With each passing year, there were more and more hens, because the grandparents had a brand new Japanese incubator, which they had purchased for a fortune when they went abroad on holiday.
And the grandparents also had a hen named Ryaba. The grandfather and grandmother treasured her like the apple of their eye, and not without reason: this hen laid eggs, but not ordinary ones—they were made of pure gold. Once, at an institute of new technologies, she was programmed according to a unique system, because all her data were perfectly suited for the experiment. From that moment on, Ryaba became a real treasure, and thanks to her, the grandparents became richer than the richest of the rich.
So day after day passed, Ryaba laid golden eggs, the grandparents grew wealthier, and in the meantime they sold ordinary eggs in other countries.
But Ryaba was not happy, even though she lived in good conditions on a super-modern farm with all the conveniences. She desperately wanted to become a mother, so that instead of golden eggs, she would lay ordinary ones, and from them would hatch little, yellow, fluffy chicks.
Do you know, hens, how I can lay ordinary eggs instead of golden ones?
Ryaba asked the other hens.
Cluck-cluck-cluck! What? Golden? Is it you who lays such eggs?
The neighbouring hens were amazed.
Yes! And grandfather and grandmother sell them and use the money to buy cars and aeroplanes for themselves. But I so want to become a mother, so that from my eggs, ordinary ones, little chicks would hatch. I would lead them about, teaching them to peck wheat with their beaks.
Ryaba replied.
And suddenly one hen quietly called out to Ryaba:
Hey, Ryaba, come here. I heard about some vitamins, I can't quite remember the name. But I know that if you take them, chicks will definitely hatch for you—the scientific institute guarantees it.
But how will I find out the name?
Ryaba asked sadly.
What is the internet for?
The hen was surprised.
I know that grandfather and grandmother have everything in their mansion: televisions, remote-controlled curtains, and even a computer. You'll definitely be able to find out the name of these miracle vitamins there.
And so Ryaba decided to do whatever it took to get into the house and find out the name of the vitamins that would help her become a real mother.
Evening came, the lights in the house went out, grandfather and grandmother went to bed. Ryaba didn't leave the window for a moment, waiting for night to fall so she could get into the room where a precious computer sat on a beautiful oak table.
Ryaba quietly left through the back door of the farm, unnoticed crept past the security cameras, and flew through an open window that grandmother always opened at night. Once inside the house, the hen immediately heard loud snoring—grandfather and grandmother were snoring, taking turns.
Oh, so they're sleeping soundly and won't hear anything.
Ryaba thought, and quietly flew into the room where the computer was. She pressed the button and the monitor switched on. In the search box, Ryaba began typing:
