‘To see Olka?’ the granny exclaimed delightedly. ‘Police, are you? Not paying her loans, isn’t she? I warned her not to get carried away! Lives without a husband, raising that little dumpling all on her own, but she keeps on doing it, always having the place decorated or flitting off abroad somewhere’ – at this point her words rang with the genuine hatred of someone who has never travelled anywhere – ‘or buying a flat TV, or taking that dumpling of hers to clubs and classes …’
‘Anton, do something,’ Gesar begged me. ‘I’m … afraid I might overdo it.’
‘Yes, do a bit of work,’ Zabulon said, with a nod. ‘Remoralise her if you like. I promise not to count it against your allowance for intervention.’
I probably could have tried to exert a positive influence on the granny. After all, she hadn’t always been like this, had she? People aren’t born like that. Something bad happens to them … or maybe it’s some special spitefulness virus, as yet unknown to science.
‘I won’t remoralise her, I’m afraid I might rupture myself in the process,’ I said. ‘Go to bed, grandma!’
I didn’t even want to read her name, as if I was afraid of soiling myself on her thoughts.
‘To bed?’ the granny echoed in amazement.
‘You’ll sleep for exactly ten hours,’ I said. ‘And when you wake up, you’ll forget about us.’
The granny nodded and closed the door, pulling her head back in through the crack at the very last moment.
‘The brilliant solutions are always the simplest,’ said Gesar. And he rang the bell at the next door.
Olga Yurievna answered it. Her eyes were slightly hazy, like the eyes of any person who has come under the gentle but irresistible influence of an Other.
‘Come in!’ she said in the tone of a hospitable housewife and stepped aside.
I spotted Semyon immediately – he was standing in the middle of the room, pressing the boy Kesha up against himself with one hand and ‘holding’ a very, very unpleasant spell, cocked and ready to fire, in the other. Semyon is a very experienced and proficient field agent. But after seeing the ‘tiger’ with my own eyes, I knew that no amount of experience and skill would have helped him.
When we appeared Semyon let out a deep sigh of relief and fluttered his hand through the air, dispersing the spell. Then he said: ‘They’re friends, Kesha, everything’s fine …’
And then he spoke to us, with far more feeling.
‘Thank you. You’ve no idea how glad I am to see you. Even you … Zabulon.’
CHAPTER 6
IN THE FAIRY-TALE books, young magicians’ parents are always honestly informed that their child is being taken away to be taught magic. In the Watches they never do that. Firstly, we don’t have any special school. Others are taught at the Watch, and it’s rare for more than a third of them to be children, since the abilities of an Other can manifest themselves at any age. For Others, as for chess players, there are no ‘adult’ and ‘child’ ratings. Secondly, it’s something that the parents simply don’t need to know. And the point is not just that they might give something away – that’s easy enough to prevent with simple spells. The problem is actually something quite different …
Over the many centuries before humankind finally lost its belief in magic and the wizards and sorcerers set up the Watches and were divided into Light Ones and Dark Ones, we acquired substantial experience in dealing with human beings. Imagine you have been told that your child is a wizard or a sorceress. At first, you’ll probably be glad to find out (or distressed, if it contradicts your ardently held faith or no less ardent atheistic convictions). But later … later you’ll feel resentful. Of course, all parents want the best possible future for their children. But one so much better than the norm? To accept that you will live the short life of an ordinary human being, while your child will be able to work miracles and will live for hundreds of years – that’s not easy! Very many people come completely unglued and start taking their irritation out on the child in various ways, which may be more or less explicit. And that, by the way, can lead to very serious unpleasantness – children have far less self-control than adults do.
But even that’s not the most important thing.
People may be glad that their child is an Other.
They may genuinely love the child and not allow even a single drop of envy into their hearts.
This usually means that we’re dealing with a good, loving family.
But then the most difficult part starts.
‘Daughter, your grandmother’s seriously ill … but you could help her, couldn’t you?’
She could. A seventh-level intervention. A trifling matter, of course … but it disrupts the balance between the Watches.
‘Son, life’s getting really hard nowadays … Could you drop into my office? There’s a man there, and it depends on him whether they give me a raise or not … could you have a word with him?’
He could. It’s only a sixth- or seventh-level intervention. And it undermines the morals of a young Other.
‘What the hell are the bastards doing now! This law will destroy our entire education system!’
There isn’t even any need to say anything. The good, honest Other child gazes at the glistening features of the functionary on the TV screen. And involuntarily wishes him ill.
An inferno vortex swells up above the wise bureaucratic head. And not the kind that they accumulate every day from ordinary human curses – they can answer for those themselves, with their drug-addict children, booby-trapped automobiles, spy cameras in the bathhouse – but a genuine, really serious vortex. One that will stir up such a stink that the Inquisition will intervene to make peace between the Watches and determine who’s to blame and what one side owes the other.
Therefore the best, in fact the only way is to explain to someone, no matter how big or little they might be: ‘You are not human. You are an Other. It’s not better or worse … it’s different. The misfortunes and problems of ordinary people are nothing to do with you any longer, and you have nothing to do with them. You’ll have plenty of misfortunes and problems of your own.’
Sometimes it takes a while, but eventually everyone understands.
And as for the parents … they learn that their talented child is now going to study in a special school in addition to the ordinary one. A special school for physics and chemistry, or for art. Or else attend a macramé club five times a week. It doesn’t matter in the slightest what they think, because they will accept any lie and never try to discover the truth. There was a time when I thought that even this was cruel. Then I realised that it wasn’t cruelty, but firmness. Benign firmness.
… What is genuinely cruel is to initiate an Other who is in love, or who is loved with all the ardour of human passion. And to explain that, no, he probably will not be able to rejuvenate or extend the life of the object of his love … that he must never tell her anything … That must be like living as a spy who has been planted in an enemy country. Except that Others are not spies, and the lovers generally separate. Even if the Other is content to love a human being and can reconcile himself to remaining silent and watching as old age stealthily advances – even so, day after day, year after year, life itself pulls them further and further apart. Interests, tastes and habits change. And love dies.
That’s why those people who decline the chance to be initiated, and so remain human, probably act wisely. Stupidly, but wisely …
‘I won’t be able to tell mummy anything?’ asked Kesha.