«I need to know.»
«No. That's exactly what you don't need. And you don't need to worry, we're not planning any revolutions. No prison camps, execution squads, or military tribunals. We're not going to repeat our old mistakes.»
«We're going to make new ones instead.»
«Anton!» she said, raising her voice. «Think about it, will you; what are you doing? We have a really good chance of winning. Our country has a chance of living in peace and flourishing. It could become the vanguard of humanity. Defeat the Darkness. It's been twelve years in the making, Anton. And it's not just Gesar's project; the whole top level's been working on it.»
«What?»
«Yes. Did you think it was all being done off the cuff?»
«You were keeping tabs on Svetlana for twelve years?»
«Of course not! A new social model has been developed. Various elements of the plan have already been put into action. Not even I know all the details. Since then Gesar's been waiting for the key players in the plan to come together in space and time.»
«Who exactly? Svetlana and the Inquisitor?»
The pupils of her eyes contracted, and I knew I'd guessed it. Or part of it.
«And what else. What part am I supposed to play in all this?»
«You'll find out when the time comes.»
«Olga, so far magical intervention in human life has never led to anything good.»
«Don't give me those old childhood maxims,» she said, getting really worked up now. «Don't think you're any wiser than anyone else. We've no intention of using magic. Calm down and relax.»
I nodded.
«Okay. You've explained your position. I don't agree with it.»
«Officially?»
«No. In a private capacity. And as a private individual I believe I have the right of opposition.»
«Opposition? To Gesar?» Olga's eyes opened wide, and the corners of her lips curved up in a smile. «Anton!»
I turned on my heel and went out.
Yes, it was laughable.
Yes, it was absurd.
It wasn't just a crazy project dreamed up by Gesar and Olga. It wasn't just an attempt to repeat a failed experiment. It was a meticulously prepared operation, planned over a long period of time, and it had been my bad luck to get caught up in it.
An operation approved at the highest level.
Approved by the Light.
Why was I getting so involved? I had no right to be. None at all. And I had no chance either. Absolutely none. I could console myself with the wise parable about the grain of sand that stopped the clock, but right now I was a grain of sand caught between mill wheels.
And the saddest thing of all was that these were friendly and caring mill wheels. Nobody would persecute me. Nobody would fight against me. They'd simply stop me doing all those stupid things that wouldn't do any good in any case.
Then why did I feel this pain, this unendurable pain in my chest?
I was standing on the terrace, clenching my fists in impotent fury, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
«Looks like you've managed to figure something out, Anton?»
I glanced at Semyon and nodded.
«Hard to take?»
«Yes,» I admitted.
«Then just remember one thing, please. You're not just a grain of sand. Nobody's just a grain of sand. Especially if he's an Other.»
«How long do you have to live to be able to guess what someone else is thinking like that?»
«A hundred years, Anton.»
«So Gesar can read any of us like an open book?»
«Of course.»
«Then I'll have to learn how not to think,» I said.
«For that you have to learn how to think first. Did you know there's been a ruckus in town?»
«When?»
«A quarter of an hour ago. It's all over already.»
«And what happened?»
«A courier arrived to see the boss, from somewhere in the East. The Dark Ones tracked him and tried to eliminate him. Right there in front of the boss.» Semyon laughed.
«That means war!»
«No, they were within their rights. The courier entered the city illegally.»
I looked around. Nobody was in any hurry to go anywhere. They weren't starting up their cars or packing their things. Ignat and Ilya were heating up the barbecue again.
«Shouldn't we be getting back?»
«No. The boss handled things his own way. There was a small fight, without any casualties. The courier's been made a member of our Watch, and the Dark Ones had to leave empty-handed. The restaurant suffered a bit, that's all.»
«What restaurant?»
«The restaurant where the boss met the courier,» Semyon explained patiently. «We've been told we can continue with our vacation.»
I looked up at the blindingly blue sky, swelling with the heat.
«You know, somehow I'm not in the mood for a vacation. I think I'll go back to Moscow. I don't suppose anyone will mind too much?»
«Of course not.»
Semyon took out his cigarettes and lit up. Then he said casually:
«In your place, I'd find out exactly what the courier brought with him from the East. Maybe that's your chance.»
I laughed bitterly.
«The Dark Ones couldn't find out. Are you suggesting I should start rummaging in the boss's safe?»
«The Dark Ones couldn't take it. Whatever it was. You have no right to take what the courier brought or even touch it, of course. But just finding out…«
«Thanks. I really mean that.»
Semyon nodded, accepting my gratitude without any false modesty.
«We'll settle up in the Twilight. You know, I've had enough of vacation too. After lunch I'm going to borrow Tiger Cub's motorcycle and go back to town. Can I give you a lift?»
«Uh-huh.»
I felt ashamed. It was the kind of shame probably only Others can feel. We can always tell whenever someone's helping us out, when they're giving us something we don't deserve but can't possibly refuse.
I couldn't stay there any longer. Stay there and see Svetlana, Olga, and Ignat. Listen to their truth.
I would always have my own truth.
«Can you handle a motorcycle?» I asked, trying clumsily to change the subject.
«I rode one in the first Paris-Dakar rally. Let's go give the guys a hand.»
I glanced sullenly at Ignat. He was chopping wood, handling the axe like a real virtuoso. After every blow he froze for a moment and looked around quickly at everyone, flexing his biceps.
He really loved himself. Sure, he loved the rest of the world too. But he came first.
«Let's do that,» I agreed. I swung my arm back and hurled the sign of the triple blade through the Twilight. Several blocks of wood flew apart into neat sticks of firewood just as Ignat had raised his axe for the next blow. He lost his balance and almost fell. Then he started looking around.
Naturally, my blow had left a spatial trace. The twilight was vibrating, greedily drawing in energy.
«Antosha, what did you do that for?» Ignat asked in an offended voice. «What for? That's not the sporting way!»
«But it is efficient,» I said, walking down from the terrace. «Shall I chop some more?»
«Don't bother,» said Ignat, bending down to collect up the firewood. «Carry on like that and we'll end up grilling the kebabs with fireballs.»
I didn't feel at all guilty, but I started helping anyway. The firewood had been chopped cleanly and the cuts glittered a rich amber yellow. It seemed a shame to put something so beautiful on the fire.
Then I looked at the house and saw Olga standing in the ground-floor window.
She'd been following my little escapade very seriously. Far too seriously.
I waved to her.