They passed the patch of forest, and immediately heard the combined rumbling of loudspeakers, crackling of exhaust pipes, and angry shouts. Up ahead of them, on a shallow, grassy slope rising toward the north, the tanks were standing in three rows. Men were wandering between them, and layers of grayish-blue smoke were hovering in the air. “Look, there are our coffins!” someone at the front exclaimed in a loud, jolly voice.
“Just look what they’re giving us,” said Gai. “Prewar tanks, imperial junk, old tin cans… Listen, Mak, are we really going to croak here, then? This is absolutely certain death…”
“How far is it to the border?” Maxim asked. “And in general, what’s over there—behind the crest of hills?”
“A plain,” Gai replied. “As smooth as a tabletop. The border’s about two miles away, then the hills begin, and they reach all the way—”
“Is there no river?”
“No.”
“Any ravines?”
“N-No… I don’t remember. Why?”
Maxim caught hold of his hand and tightly squeezed it. “Don’t lose heart, boy,” he said. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Gai looked up at him with desperate hope in his sunken eyes; the skin was stretched taut over his cheekbones. “Really?” he said. “Because I can’t see any way out at all. They’ve taken away our guns, the tanks have blanks instead of live shells, and there aren’t any machine guns. There’s death ahead of us, and death behind us.”
“Aha!” Zef said with malicious spite, picking his teeth. “Wet your pants, have you? This isn’t as simple as smacking convicts in the teeth.”
The column filed into a gap between the rows of tanks and halted. It became hard to talk. Huge loudspeakers had been set up right there on the grass, and a velvety tape-recorded bass voice was pontificating: “There, beyond the ridge of this hollow, is the perfidious enemy. Forward. Only forward. Pull the levers right back—and forward. Against the enemy. Forward… There, beyond the ridge of this hollow, is the perfidious enemy. Pull the levers right back—and forward…” Then the voice broke off midword and the colonel started yelling. He was standing on the radiator of his off-road vehicle with the battalion commanders holding him by the legs.
“Soldiers!” the colonel yelled. “Enough idle chatter! You see before you your tanks. Everyone to their vehicles! And the drivers above all, because I couldn’t give a damn about the rest of you. But anyone who stays behind…” He took out his pistol and showed it to all of them. “Is that clear, you rotten, lousy pigs? Company commanders, lead the crews to their tanks.”
The men started shoving and jostling. The colonel, swaying like a pole on his radiator, carried on shouting something, but he could no longer be heard, because the loudspeakers had once again started hammering home the message that the enemy lay ahead, and therefore—pull the levers right back. All the military convicts went rushing to the third row of tanks. A fight broke out and steel-tipped boots started flying. The huge, gray crowd slowly seethed around the tanks in the back row. Some tanks started moving and men came scattering down off them. The colonel turned completely blue from the strain of yelling and finally started shooting over the men’s heads. A black line of guardsmen came running out of the patch of forest.
“Let’s go,” said Maxim, taking a firm grip of Gai’s and Zef’s shoulders and leading them to the vehicle on the end of the front row—a sullen, blotchy tank with a flaccidly drooping gun barrel.
“Wait,” Gai jabbered in confusion, looking around. “We’re the fourth company, we’re over that way, in the second row…”
“Go on, go on, then,” Maxim angrily said. “Maybe you want to command a platoon for a while too?”
“A soldier through and through,” said Zef. “Cool it, mama…”
Someone grabbed hold of Maxim’s belt from behind. Without turning back, Maxim tried to free himself, but he couldn’t, and he glanced around. Dragging along behind him, tenaciously clinging on with one hand and wiping his bloodied nose with the other, was the fourth member of the crew, a criminal convict nicknamed Hook.
“Ah,” said Maxim, “I forgot about you. Come on, come on, don’t fall behind…” He noted to himself with displeasure that in the hurly-burly he had forgotten about this man, who had actually been given quite an important role in his plan.
At that moment the Guards’ machine guns started roaring out, bullets started jumping off armor plating with a mewling whine, and they had to double over and run at top speed. Maxim ran in behind the end tank and stopped. “Listen to my orders,” he said. “Hook, start her up. Zef, into the turret; Gai, check the lower hatches—and check them thoroughly, or I’ll have your head!”
He set off around the tank, examining the tracks. There was shooting and yelling and the monotonous droning of the loudspeakers on all sides, but he had promised himself that he wouldn’t be distracted, and he wasn’t distracted, he simply noted to himself: The loudspeakers. Gai. Mustn’t forget him. The tracks were in tolerable condition, but the leading wheels gave cause for concern. Never mind, that’s OK, I don’t have to ride in it for long…
Gai agilely crawled out from under the tank, already dirty, with his hands all scratched. “The hatches are rusted,” he shouted. “I didn’t close them—they have to stay open, right?”
“There, beyond the ridge of this hollow, is the perfidious enemy!” the tape-recorded voice pontificated. “Forward. Only forward. Pull the levers right back…”
Maxim grabbed Gai by the collar and pulled him close. “Do you love me?” he asked, staring into those dilated pupils. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes!” gasped Gai.
“Listen to nobody but me. Don’t listen to anybody else. Everything else is lies. I’m your friend, only me, nobody else. I’m your commander. Remember that. I give the orders—remember that.”
Dumbfounded Gai kept nodding rapidly, soundlessly repeating: “Yes, yes. Yes. Only you. Nobody else…”
“Mak!” someone yelled right in his ear.
Maxim looked around. Standing there in front of him was that strangely familiar civilian, wearing a long raincoat, but no hat any longer. Massaraksh. A square face with peeling skin, and red, puffy eyes… It was Fank! With a bloody scratch on one cheek and a split in his lip…
“Massaraksh!” Fank yelled, trying to shout above the noise. “Have you gone deaf or what? Do you recognize me?”
“Fank,” said Maxim. “What are you doing here?”
Fank wiped the blood off his lip. “Let’s go!” he shouted. “Quick!”
“Where?”
“To get the hell out of here. Let’s go!” He grabbed hold of Maxim’s coverall and pulled.
Maxim flung off his hand. “They’ll kill us!” he shouted. “The Guards!”
Fank shook his head. “Let’s go! I’ve got a pass for you!” And then, seeing that Maxim wasn’t moving, “I’ve searched the entire country for you! Thought I’d never find you! Let’s go immediately!”
“I’m not alone,” Maxim shouted.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not alone,” Maxim bawled. “There are three of us! I won’t go alone!”