‘Why?’ Alisher asked sympathetically.
‘Because feeling ashamed is for kids who’ve scrawled four-letter words on a fence!’ Pastukhov declared confidently. ‘And even then … these days, not even a kid feels ashamed of that. People who feel ashamed and go on their way … they’ll just get up to no good all over again! But if they feel pain and fear – that gets through to their brains, and their livers, that gets stored in their subconscious minds. Especially since … well, you know who we’re talking about here?’
‘Who?’ asked Alisher, fascinated.
‘Individuals involved in committing group criminal offences!’ said Pastukhov, energetically waving one hand through the air. ‘Mass disturbances, breaches of the rules of conduct of gatherings and demonstrations, an unsanctioned public assembly, the destruction of private property, delinquency, thuggery, robbery, hooliganism, bodily harm … Basically, the whole works! And can you find them all afterwards, arrest them and put them on trial for what they’ve done? No way! Probably ten fall guys will be picked and given a good beating as an example, and the rest will get away with a bit of a fright. So it would be good to punish them in the process of suppressing the illegal activity. So, one – let it be painful! And, two – let it be frightening!’
He glanced triumphantly round the hall.
The audience was silent. Thinking. But this was far from being the censorious silence of Light Others appalled by human cruelty. Everyone was simply silent as they thought over his words. And it seemed as if they were willing to agree with them.
And by and large I agreed with Pastukhov too.
I didn’t like it! But I agreed with him.
‘Dmitry, may I ask you another question, then?’ said Olga, rejoining the conversation. ‘On a slightly different subject, but nonetheless … There’s a ship sailing over the sea. A large one, with many passengers on board, very many. The hold springs a leak. There aren’t enough lifeboats. They can’t wait for help – it simply won’t get there in time. The captain realises they won’t be able to save everyone, but the passengers aren’t yet aware of the situation. What would you do?’
Pastukhov knitted his brows. Then he asked hopefully: ‘This is a kind of test, right? We had a visit from a psychologist, he asked questions like that …’
‘No, no!’ Olga said, shaking her head. ‘It’s not a test, not that. Simply a question. What do you think should be done in a situation like that?’
‘Well, probably they should put the children in the lifeboats,’ said Pastukhov, after thinking for a moment. ‘And the women, if they’ll fit.’
He was speaking sincerely, I could see that. And I immediately started to like the senior sergeant a lot more than when he was talking about the corrective power of pain and fear.
‘Not even all the children will fit in!’ said Olga. ‘And it’s by no means certain that they’ll survive in the lifeboats without any grown-ups, anyway.’
Pastukhov knitted his brows.
‘They could save those who are most deserving …’ he said thoughtfully. ‘You know, distinguished people with special honours and such …’ He rubbed the bridge of his nose and objected to his own idea. ‘No, that’s no good. Who’s going to decide, eh? Who’s worthy, who isn’t … you’d end up with a real set-to. I’d probably do nothing.’
‘Nothing?’ asked Olga. Curiously, not judgementally.
‘Nothing!’ Pastukhov replied, speaking firmly this time. ‘Well, you know, of course I’d order the crew to pump the water out, block off the hole with some kind of plug …’
‘They use patches for that!’ someone well informed on maritime matters told him from the hall.
‘With a patch, then,’ Pastukhov agreed. ‘But otherwise – let the musicians play and the waiters serve the food …’
He must have watched Titanic just recently, I thought.
‘But who’s going to be saved?’ Olga carried on questioning him.
‘Whoever manages to get away,’ Pastukhov said, with a shrug. ‘Whoever realises that the ship is sinking, that there aren’t enough lifeboats. That would be the fairest way of all. Afterwards, when everybody realises, you could try to impose some kind of order.’
‘Thank you, that’s a very valuable opinion,’ said Olga. ‘Any more questions?’
‘Dmitry, this is a different situation …’ said someone in the audience. ‘You’re an ordinary person, a cop, I mean, a polizei … uh, sorry. An ordinary policeman who knows nothing about Others. At night you come across a creature who behaves exactly as if he’s a vampire – or a werewolf, say. What would you do?’
‘Take out my pistol and attempt to detain him,’ Pastukhov replied.
The audience seemed to be surprised. There was total silence. Pastukhov shuffled his feet.
‘Don’t go thinking that I’m some crazy, gung-ho kind of hero,’ he said guiltily. ‘But what would I think? That it was some sort of psycho who’d dressed himself up as a vampire or a werewolf. That means he can be arrested. What can he do against a pistol? But if I know – the way I know a little bit about you – well then, of course, no. I’d run for it! But you wanted to know how an ordinary cop – a policemen, that is, would react …’
I quietly opened the door a bit and walked out of the hall.
Somehow I didn’t like what was going on. Since when had they started preparing the Night Watch for interacting with the human agencies of law enforcement? The humans were on their own and we were on our own. That was the way it had always been. Or maybe not always?
No, I definitely didn’t like this.
I looked round. Over at one side, beside a little projecting wall, Las was standing, smoking stealthily and hiding the cigarette in his fist like a schoolboy.
‘What are you up to?’ I asked, taken by surprise.
‘What can a cop tell me that I don’t already know?’ Las asked rhetorically. ‘Though I remember I met one cop who played a Vivaldi concerto on the flute. Now that did surprise me!’
‘Well, why shouldn’t a man have a hobby like that?’ I asked, shrugging. ‘No matter if he’s a policeman to the depths of his soul – if he enjoys playing, let him!’
‘Right, but not standing under the falling snow in winter, on duty!’ Las protested. He thought for a second and added. ‘His playing was lousy anyway, I tell you honestly. Definitely a C-minus.’
I shook my head. I had never encountered any militiamen or policemen who played the flute. In general I hadn’t come across even a tenth as many amusing little scenes as Las saw all around him. I’d come across plenty that were beastly and abominable, but not the amusing kind.
‘In the first place,’ I began, ‘I wasn’t invited to the lecture.’
Las nodded understandingly and whispered: ‘Yes, I would have been offended too!’
‘In the second place, I find the whole subject rather strange,’ I went on, ignoring the jibe. ‘Are we preparing for a series of cataclysms or something?’
‘There’s no stability,’ said Las. ‘The terrorists have seized another plane.’
‘What plane?’ I asked, pricking up my ears.
Las looked at me suspiciously. Then he shut his cigarette end in a pocket ashtray and waved his hand about to disperse the smoke.
‘Forget it. It’s just a figure of speech. Anton, take a look around you! At the human world. You’re all Great Ones, mighty magicians, you’re not interested in watching ordinary life. But the world’s in a fever, financial crisis after financial crisis, currencies skipping up and down, governments falling in countries all over the place, revolution after revolution in the underdeveloped countries. And meanwhile our enemy is cunning and powerful, he’s on the offensive.’