Part 7 (1/2)
”You must admit,” Pavel told me after he'd taken a sip of wine, ”that the way our chief treats the staff is pretty good!”
I nodded.
”And the Light Ones...” he said, putting all the contempt he could muster into those two words, ”... they're much greater individualists than we are.”
”Don't overdo it,” I said. ”That's not really true.”
”Oh come on, Alisa!” The wine had made him talkative. ”Do you remember how we stood in the cordon a year ago? Just before the hurricane?”
That cordon was probably the only place I remembered having seen him before. The shape-s.h.i.+fters do all the crude work and our paths seldom cross. Only during combat operations, and on those rare occasions when the entire Watch personnel is convened.
”I remember.”
”Well then, that... Gorodetsky. That lousy servant of the Light!”
”He's a very powerful magician,” I objected. ”Very powerful.”
”Oh, sure! He grabbed all that Power, squeezed the last drops out of ordinary people, and then what? What did he use it for?”
”For his own remoralization.”
I closed my eyes, remembering how it had looked.
A fountain of light shooting up into the sky. The streams of energy that Anton had gathered from those people. He had risked everything on a single throw of the dice, even risked using borrowed Power, and for a brief instant he had acquired Power that matched or even surpa.s.sed the abilities of Zabulon and Gesar.
And he had expended all that tremendous Power on himself.
Remoralization. The search for the ethically optimum solution. The Light Ones' most terrible problem was how to avoid causing harm, how to avoid taking a step that would result in inflicting evil on human beings.
”That makes him a super-egotist!” Pavel said with relish. ”He could have defended his girlfriend, couldn't he? And he could have fought us, couldn't he? And how-with that Power! But what did he do? He used everything he collected on himself. He didn't even try to stop the hurricane... but he could have done that, he could have!”
”Who knows what any other course of action would have led to?” I asked.
”But he acted just like any of us. Like a genuine Dark One!”
”If that were true, he'd be in the Day Watch.”
”And he will be,” Pavel said confidently. ”Where else can he go? He couldn't bear to give away all that Power, so he used it on himself. And afterward he made excuses-it was all so that he could make the correct decision...
And what was his decision? Not to interfere! That was all-not to interfere! That's our way, the Dark way.”
”I'm not going to argue with you, Pavlusha,” I said.
The plane shuddered as the undercarriage was lowered.
At first glance the shape-s.h.i.+fter seemed to be right. But I could remember Zabulon's face during the days after the hurricane. The expression in his eyes was very gloomy-I'd learned to tell the difference. It was as if he'd realized too late that he'd been tricked.
Pavel carried on discussing the subtleties of the struggle between the two Watches, their different approaches, their long-term operational planning. What a strategist... he should have been sitting in headquarters, not roaming the streets...
I suddenly realized how tired he'd made me feel during our two-hour flight. But at first he'd made quite a pleasant impression...
”Pavlusha, who do you transform into?” I asked.
The shape-s.h.i.+fter started breathing heavily through his nose and answered reluctantly: ”A lizard.”
”Oho!” I looked at him again with more interest. Shape-s.h.i.+fters like that were a genuine rarity; he was no ordinary werewolf, like the late Vitalik. ”That's serious! But why don't I see you on operations more often?”
”I...” Pavel stopped and frowned. He took out a handkerchief and dabbed his sweaty forehead. ”You see, the thing is...”
His embarra.s.sment was wonderful to watch. He was like an erring schoolgirl on a visit to the gynecologist.
”I transform into a herbivorous lizard,” he finally blurted out. ”Not the most useful kind in a fight, unfortunately. The jaws are strong, but the teeth are flat, for grinding. And I'm too slow. But I can break an arm or a leg... or chew off a finger.”
I couldn't help laughing. I said sympathetically, ”Well, never mind. We need personnel like that too! The important thing is for you to look impressive and instill fear and confusion.”
”I look impressive all right,” said Pavel, squinting sideways at me suspiciously. ”Only my scales are too colorful, like a painted Khokhloma toy. It's hard to disguise myself.”
I managed to keep a straight face.
”Never mind, I think that's interesting. When people have to be frightened, especially little children, colorful scales are just the thing.”
”That's the kind of work I usually do...” Pavel admitted.
A sharp jolt cut short our conversation as the plane touched down on the runway. The pa.s.sengers burst into applause somewhat prematurely. I gazed avidly out through the window for a few seconds, looking at the greenery, the airport terminal, a plane taxiing to take off...
I simply couldn't believe it.
I'd escaped from stuffy, oppressive Moscow. I had the vacation I'd been waiting for so long... and my special rights... and when I got back-Zabulon would be waiting for me again...
Pavel saw me as far as the trolley stop. It's the most amusing trolley route I know: all the way from one town to another, from Simferopol to Yalta. But strangely enough, it's quite a convenient way to travel.
Everything here was different, quite different. It seemed hot-but it wasn't the asphalt-and-concrete city heat of Moscow. And even though the sea was a long way off, I could sense it. And the luxuriant greenery, and the whole atmosphere of a huge resort at the height of the season.
It felt good... it really did. I just wanted to get a shower as soon as possible, get a good night's sleep, tidy myself up...
”You're not going to Yalta, are you?” Pavel asked understandingly.
”Not exactly to Yalta,” I said. I looked gloomily at the long line. Even the children were all keyed up, ready to grab a seat in the trolley. I had nothing with me at all-just my purse and the sports bag over my shoulder, and I could have stood quite easily-but only if I managed to get on the trolley without a ticket.
And I didn't feel like standing.
If it came down to it, I had a thick wad of cash for my travel allowance, vacation allowance, and medical allowance-Zabu-lon had managed to issue me almost two thousand dollars. That was certainly plenty for two weeks. Especially in Ukraine.
”All right, Pavlusha,” I said and kissed him on the cheek. The shape-s.h.i.+fter blushed. ”I'll get there, no need to see me off.”
”Are you sure?” he asked. ”I was instructed to give you every possible help.”
Oh, my little protector... A herbivorous lizard, a cow with scales ...
”I'm sure. You need to get some rest too.”