‘Boris Ignatievich!’
‘The boy can’t hear us,’ my boss reassured me. ‘I’ve put up a screen. Just so that our voices won’t disturb him.’
‘Gesar, then who is he, this Tiger?’
‘No one knows, Anton. He’s far too rare a beast. Either the Prophet manages to utter his main prophecy and the Tiger backs off. Or … or he kills the Prophet and leaves. I presume that’s why Prophets are such a rare breed too. He usually finds them before we do.’
‘What’s a main prophecy?’
Gesar sighed and glanced ostentatiously at his watch. Then he pointed to one of the chairs and sat down in the one beside it. He glanced round at Kesha and wagged his finger at him. The boy closed his eyes again.
‘The very first prophecy that a Prophet makes when his powers become effective is called his main prophecy. It can be extremely important or absolutely insignificant. But according to one theory – one theory – we’re getting into very uncertain territory here, Anton.’
‘Don’t drag it out.’
‘This theory says that the first prophecy doesn’t just predict reality, but changes it. But there’s another theory that says … of course a Prophet can’t change reality. But he selects one of the possible courses that reality can follow … develops it and fixes it. To use old photographers’ terminology.’
‘There aren’t any photographers left who develop images and fix them,’ I muttered. ‘So the Tiger tries to stop the first prophecy because, if it’s terrible, it will come true?’
‘That’s right. If the kid predicts World War Three, then it’ll happen. If he predicts a hit by an asteroid a couple of kilometres long, then one will fall on us …’
‘But what he told me in the airport—’
‘That’s not a prophecy. Just a harbinger. He has to make his prophecy now, after initiation. Usually during the first few days. Sometimes in the first few hours.’
I looked at the fat little lad squirming in the large, threadbare chair and asked: ‘What do you want to do, boss?’
‘Shake the boy up a bit so that he utters his main prophecy. It’s by no means certain that it will be something terrible. Anton. I really don’t feel like capitulating to some weird Twilight Creature that won’t even talk to us!’
‘And don’t you feel sorry for the boy?’
‘You can’t feel sorry for everyone. If dozens of Others have to spill their blood to prevent a child shedding a single teardrop, then let him bawl. But I don’t want to just hand him over for slaughter without at least trying to do something.’
‘So, if the Tiger comes …’
‘Then the Night Watch will not do battle with him.’
‘That’s contemptible.’
‘It’s honest. If the Inquisition came to back us up, we’d have some kind of chance. Maybe. But they’ve refused. Now everything depends on how much time we have until the Tiger shows up. If it’s not before morning, I’ll probably have got the boy to speak out by then. Let him utter his prophecy … I won’t even listen to him. He can mutter it into the toilet bowl. Or into a hollow in a tree, like Erasmus … I can grow a tree with a hollow, especially for the occasion. But if the Tiger comes at night …’
‘But Boris Ignatievich, where in Blake’s poem does it say anything about him coming in the morning?’
Gesar paused for a few seconds, and then quoted it again.
‘That’s a fat lot of help.’
‘Well, I just hope it means what I think it means,’ said Gesar.
‘Well maybe it really does mean the morning,’ I said. ‘You know how … poetical … all these poets are.’
‘The analysts tell me that it’s actually an allusion to Milton’s Paradise Lost, a reference to the fallen angels who were defeated, fell from heaven and were lamented by the other angels … You’re right, Anton, poets are so poetical. How can you tell what it is they really mean?’
I walked over to the window and looked out at the sky over Moscow. The usual low Moscow sky. No stars to be seen, although it was dark already and they should have appeared by now. Rain … rain was possible … perfectly possible …
‘Anton, you won’t be able to do a thing,’ Gesar said gently. ‘Even I won’t. Or the entire Watch, all together. You go. I’m going to work with the boy. I just hope I’ll get it done in time.’
The boss is a dyed-in-the-wool pragmatist, of course. And his pragmatism would allow him to hand the boy over to a creature from the Twilight, or even to a real tiger in the zoo, if he decided that was the lesser of two evils. But he would try everything he could to save him, out of sheer stubbornness …
I knew that.
‘I’ll be in the office for a while. Call me if anything happens, Boris Ignatievich …’
Gesar nodded.
‘Is our conversation confidential?’ I asked, just to make sure, as I walked over to the door.
‘As you think best,’ Gesar replied unexpectedly. I hesitated and looked at my boss.
Then I walked out, closing the door firmly behind me.
There were three people sitting in the duty room – Las, Semyon and Alisher. What they were discussing wasn’t the boy-Prophet and it wasn’t the Tiger. Their topic of conversation was far more exalted.
‘And then I suddenly realise,’ Las was saying, ‘that I have been granted peace and the world of the spirit. So my decision to turn to God was the right one!’
‘I should think so, after a bottle of cognac,’ Alisher remarked. ‘Hi, Anton!’
‘Hi,’ I replied, perching on the table. The duty watchmen’s room is fairly large, but the two sofas, large round table with chairs around it and mini-kitchen along one wall don’t leave much free space.
‘The cognac’s got nothing to do with it!’ Las exclaimed indignantly. ‘Do you believe in Allah?’
‘I do,’ Alisher replied. ‘But then, I don’t drink.’
‘What about beer?’
‘I drink beer. But the prophet said the first drop of wine kills a man – he didn’t say anything about beer.’
‘Excuses, excuses’ Las snapped. ‘So why mock at my faith in God?’
‘I’m not mocking,’ Alisher said calmly. ‘It’s very good that you believe. Only you shouldn’t confuse a state of intoxication with the touch of God’s hand. It’s improper.’
Las gestured dismissively. ‘A slight intoxication helps a man to cast off the chains of convention and frees his mind.’
‘That’s no condition of divine revelation, far from it,’ Semyon chuckled. ‘I like going into churches, it’s calm, the smell’s good and the aura’s benign. But I don’t sense God.’
‘Your moment will come too!’ Las declared solemnly. ‘You’ll sense God within you. You’re a good man, after all.’
‘I’m an Other,’ Semyon replied. ‘A good one, I hope. But an Other. And for us, I’m afraid, there is no God …’
‘Guys, can I ask a question?’ I put in.
‘What is it?’ asked Las, livening up.
‘If you know for certain that it’s impossible to win but, if you don’t fight, someone’s going to be killed … what would you do?’
‘If it’s impossible, why should I die too?’ asked Las.
‘If you have to fight, it’s not important if you’re going to win,’ Alisher answered.
‘Why, are the lad’s chances as bad all that?’ Semyon asked, with a frown.
I carried on with my own questions. ‘Guys, have you ever heard of the Twilight Creature?’
Silence.
‘I’ve only just found out about him too. That’s because we don’t read children’s books. Only I’m not sure if I ought to …’