Instead of answering, Alisher pressed a button on the stereo console and a second later the speakers started playing a rhythmic sequence of chords.
“It’s for the rock-and-roll, too,” he said imperturbably.
We sat there awhile eating chocolate bars and washing them down with cola. All Others have a sweet tooth. Still snoring, Afandi smacked his lips and reached out his hand. I put a chocolate bar in his fingers that were now decorated with the rings. Afandi munched the candy bar without waking up. He carried on snoring.
“We’ll be there at three o’clock,” Alisher told me. “Are we going to wait until morning?”
“The night is our time,” I replied. “We’ll wake old man Rustam up. He doesn’t work very hard anyway.”
“It’s strange,” said Alisher. “Odd. Does he live there like a hermit, in a cave?”
“Why do you think that?” I asked, and pondered for a moment. “Maybe he grazes goats or sheep. Or he keeps bees up in the mountains. Or he has a weather station.”
“Or an observatory for watching the stars…What was that strange ring you put on Afandi’s hand?”
“You mean the one with the ruby? Protection against a vacuum.”
“Very exotic,” said Alisher, sucking on his plastic bottle. “I can’t remember a case of an Other being killed in a vacuum.”
“I can.”
Alisher said nothing for a few seconds, then he nodded and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think. Does it still bother you?”
“We were friends…almost. As far as a Light One and a Dark One can be.”
“Not just a Dark One. Kostya was a vampire.”
“He never killed anyone,” I said simply. “And it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t grow up as a human being. Gennady made him a vampire.”
“Who’s that?”
“His father.”
“What a bastard.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge. The boy wasn’t even a year old when he ended up in the hospital. Double pneumonia and allergies to antibiotics. Basically, the parents were told that their son wouldn’t survive. You know, there are some wonderful doctors who shouldn’t even be allowed to practice as vets, for the poor cows’ sake: ‘Your little boy’s going to die, prepare yourselves for that. You’re still young, you can have another child…’ Of course, they couldn’t have another. Kostya was Gennady’s posthumous child. After initiation, vampires retain the ability to impregnate and conceive for quite a long time; it’s one of nature’s strange jokes. But they can only have one child. After that, the vampire becomes sterile.”
“Yes, that’s what I heard,” Alisher said, nodding.
“So Gennady had a talk with his wife. She was a human being. She knew her husband was a vampire…there are families like that. But he hadn’t killed anyone, he was a very law-abiding vampire, she loved him… Anyway, he bit her. Initiated her. Their plan was for the mother to initiate the son. But she was still metamorphosing, and the baby started dying. Gennady bit him, too, and Kostya got well. That is, he died, of course. Died as a human being. But he recovered from his pneumonia. The doctor started running around, crowing that it was all due to her remarkable talent. Gennady once admitted to me that he almost went for her throat when she started hinting that the right thing to do would be to reward her for the miraculous recovery.”
Alisher was silent for a while. Then he said, “All the same, they’re vampires. It would have been better if the boy had died.”
“Well, he did die,” I said. I suddenly found this conversation disgusting. Kostya had been a very normal child, except that once a week he had to drink preserved blood. He loved playing football, reading fairy tales and science fiction, and then he had decided to study biology, so that he could analyze the nature of vampirism and teach vampires how to manage without human blood.
But Alisher wouldn’t understand me. He was a true watchman. A genuine Light One. But I tried to understand even the Dark Ones. Even vampires. To understand and forgive…or at least understand. Forgiving was the hardest thing. Sometimes forgiving was the hardest thing in the whole world.
The telephone in my pocket rang and I took it out. Aha. An even gray glow.
“Hi, Edgar,” I said.
After a short pause Edgar asked, “Has your phone identified my number?”
“No, I guessed.”
“You’re powerful,” Edgar replied in a strange voice. “Anton, I’m already in Samarkand. Where are all of you?”
“All of us?”
“You, Alisher, and Afandi.” The Inquisitor clearly hadn’t wasted the last hour or so. “Well, you’ve created a fine mess here…”
“We have?” I protested, outraged.
“All right, maybe not just you,” Edgar acknowledged. “But you too. Why did you take the car from the director of the market?”
“We didn’t take it, we bought it. In accordance with the clauses concerning the need to confiscate means of transport in an emergency. Shall I recite the relevant paragraphs?”
“Anton, cool it,” Edgar said quickly. “No one’s accusing you of anything. But the situation really is pretty bleak. To cover it up, we’ll have to put out a story about the elimination of a large gang of terrorists. And you know how we hate disguising our own…our own failures as human crimes.”
“Edgar, I understand you,” I said. “But what has this got to do with us? I have personal business with an Other who doesn’t serve in the Watches. I flew here unofficially and I have a perfect right to move around the country.”
“By virtue of the emergency situation, only with the knowledge and under the surveillance of a member of a Watch,” Edgar corrected me.
“Well, Afandi’s with us.”
Edgar sighed. I thought I heard someone say something in the background.
“OK, Anton. Deal with your personal business…which the Inquisition will have to deal with afterward. Only, don’t go driving through the mountains at night, you’ll end up at the bottom of a precipice.”
To be honest, I was actually touched by his concern.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ll rest until morning.”
“OK, Anton,” Edgar repeated. After a pause he muttered rather awkwardly, “It was good talking to you…despite everything.”
I put the phone away and said, “He’s strange, that Edgar. He was strange as a Dark One, too. But when he became an Inquisitor, he changed completely.”
“You know, I think that sooner or later you’ll end up as an Inquisitor yourself,” Alisher said in a very humdrum voice.
I thought about what he’d said and shook my head. “No, there’s no way. My wife and daughter are Higher Light Ones. They don’t take guys like that into the Inquisition.”
“I’m very glad that’s the case,” Alisher said seriously. “Well, then, shall we go?”
And at that very moment the mountains shook. Gently at first, as if the strength of the rocks was being tested. Then more and more powerfully.
“An earthquake!” Afandi howled, waking up instantly. “Out of the car!”
When he wanted, he could be very serious indeed. We jumped out of the jeep, walked a bit higher up the track, and froze. The mountains were shuddering. Small stones began slithering down the slope and showering onto us. Alisher and I automatically erected a joint protective dome. Afandi did his bit too-he set one hand above his eyes and started surveying the night in search of unknown danger.
And he actually spotted something.
“Look over there!” he shouted, jumping up and down and reaching out his hand. “That way! That way!”
We turned around, keeping the Shield above our heads: The rocks bounced off it with a clatter. We followed Afandi’s gaze and enhanced our night vision (actually, after the stimulation I’d given him, Alisher didn’t really need to do that).
And we saw the next mountain, covered with thick forest, being reduced to rubble.