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Elena led him through pathless acres of brick and plaster and dust. A girl emerged from one of the larger rubble piles and passed them with a smile, neat and clean and combing her hair. Two men in business suits came up a gaping stairwell. A woman in a head cloth with a market basket. Patches of ground had been cleared for cabbage and potato. There was woodsmoke and the smell of food cooking. Soapy water. The foulness of latrines.

‘People live here?’ said Lom.

‘They must live somewhere,’ said Elena. ‘There aren’t enough apartments, not yet, and what there is is far away, and there are so few buses… For many people, this is better.’

She pulled aside a sheet of corrugated iron and went down broken concrete steps. Knocked at a door.

‘Konnie? Konnie? It’s Elena.’

The door opened. A woman in her early twenties, vivid red hair straight and thin to her shoulders, green eyes in a pale freckled face. A clever face. Bookish. Intense. Interesting. She looked like a student. When she saw Elena her eyes widened.

‘Elena! Shit!’ She grabbed her by the arm and pulled her forward. ‘Come in quickly. Maksim is here. We can help. Maksim!’ she called over her shoulder. ‘It’s Elena! Elena is here!’ Then she saw Lom and frowned. ‘Who’s this?’

‘A friend,’ said Elena. ‘It’s OK, Konnie. He’s a friend.’

‘Oh.’

‘I trust him,’ said Elena. ‘I want you to help him.’

Konnie hesitated.

‘OK,’ she said ‘Then you’d better come in.’

Lom followed the women through the entrance into a low basement space. Bare plaster walls lit by a grating in the ceiling with a pane of dirty glass laid across it. The room was divided in two by a tacked-up orange curtain. It smelled of damp brick. The part this side of the curtain had planks on trestles for a table. There were two chairs, a sagging couch, a single-ring gas stove on a bench in the corner.

‘You have to get away, Elena,’ Konnie was saying. ‘The militia have your name. They know it was you that shot Rizhin. They’re searching for you. You have to leave the city.’

‘No,’ said Elena. ‘I’m not leaving. Never. My girls—’

‘Maksim!’ Konnie called again.

There was a stack of books on the table. Lom glanced at them. Drab covers with ragged pages and blurry print. Wrinkled typescripts pinned with rusting staples. Dangerous thinking, circulated hand to hand. He scanned the titles. The Ice Axe Manifesto. Bulletin of the Present Times. Listen, We Are Breathing. Someone Konnie presumably, it was a woman’s handwriting–had been making pencil notes in a yellow exercise book. Lom picked it up. ‘ALL GOVERNMENT,’ she had written, ‘rests on possibility of violence against own citizens. Cf Jaspersen!–Principles of Interiority Chap 4. Apeirophobia.

‘Hey!’ said Konnie. ‘Put that down.’

‘Sorry.’

Maksim came out, buttoning his shirt, from behind the orange curtain, where presumably there was a bed. His hair was long and tangled. He was tall, taller than Lom. He looked as if he’d just woken up.

‘Elena?’ he said. ‘What’s happening?’ He saw Lom and Konnie glaring at him. ‘Who is this?’

‘It’s OK, Maksim,’ said Elena. ‘He’s a friend.’

‘What’s he doing here?’

‘I’m looking for advice,’ said Lom. ‘Maybe some information. Elena said you might—’

‘What’s your name?’ said Maksim. He was trying to get the situation under control. An officer, used to command.

‘Lom.’

Konnie frowned.

‘I know that name. They’re looking for you too.’

Lom looked at her sharply. ‘Who is?’

‘The militia. They have two names for the shooting of Rizhin: Cornelius and Lom.’

‘No!’ said Elena. ‘Not him. He wasn’t there.’

‘How do you know this?’ Lom said to Konnie.

Konnie shook her head. ‘We know.’

‘I was on my own,’ Elena was saying. ‘He only came later.’

‘I let them see me in the hotel. I put my prints on the gun.’

‘You did that deliberately?’ said Elena.

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘To make things happen. To get their attention. To get involved.’ Pull a thread. See where it leads. ‘They’ve done well. I thought it would take them longer.’

‘That’s insane,’ said Maksim.

‘It was quick,’ said Lom. ‘I can’t do what I do from the outside looking in.’

‘And what exactly is it you do?’ said Maksim.

Lom looked him in the eye. ‘I’m here to bring Rizhin down.’

Maksim pulled the outside door shut.

‘You’ve put us in danger coming here,’ he said.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Elena. ‘I didn’t know. About the militia. The names. I’d never have come here if I’d known.’

‘You have to get out of the city quickly,’ said Maksim. ‘Both of you. We have a car. Konnie, you will drive—’

‘No,’ said Elena. ‘I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere. I can’t leave Mirgorod. It’s impossible. I must be here when Galina and Yeva come home.’

‘Elena, it’s not safe,’ said Konnie.

‘They won’t find me at the Subbotin. I am Ostrakhova there.’

‘They’ll come for you. They always find you in the end.’

‘The VKBD will hunt you down,’ said Maksim. ‘You cannot imagine. You cannot begin to imagine how they will hunt you now.’

‘You have no children, Maksim. I will not abandon my girls.’

‘Six years, Elena, it’s been six years. I hope they survived the bombing, but even if they did… They’re not coming back. You must know that.’

‘My girls are not dead. They were taken but they will find their way back.’

‘You must disappear now,’ said Maksim. ‘If they capture you, if they question you… you will endanger us all, Elena.’

Konnie put a hand on Maksim’s arm. ‘Please. Enough.’

‘You don’t need to leave the city,’ Lom said to Elena. ‘You can come with me. I know a place. They won’t find you there, and you can stay as long as you want. You’ll be safe.’

‘With you?’ said Maksim. ‘Who the fuck are you anyway? Where did you come from? We don’t know you.’

‘I trust him, Maksim,’ said Elena. ‘I want you to help him. That’s why we’re here.’ She turned to Lom. ‘Maksim is an old friend,’ she said. ‘A comrade. He was in the army, an officer, a good fighter. After the war he was one of the ones who wouldn’t go back to the old ways.’

‘You’re right to be cautious,’ Lom said to Maksim. ‘I would do the same. But I just need some advice, that’s all. We’re on the same side.’

‘Side?’ said Maksim. ‘What side is that?’

‘The side that Rizhin’s not on.’

Maksim studied him. Weighing him up. ‘Were you in the army?’

‘No,’ said Lom. ‘I was with the Political Police.’

‘The police?’

‘It was a long time ago.’

‘Maksim,’ said Elena, ‘I’m only asking you to listen to what he’s got to say.’

‘But…’ Maksim let out a long slow breath. ‘Oh shit. OK. You’re here now. So what do you want?’

‘If you had proof of something that could bring Rizhin down,’ said Lom, ‘if you had documentation which, if it was used properly, would expose him and empty him out and turn the world against him, would you know what to do with it?’