The Fantastic Worlds of Yuri Vynnychuk

by Yuri Vynnychuk

  The captain took a shot from his automatic along the corridor. The band of rats that was rushing here suddenly flew in all directions, escaping through the cracks under the walls.

  “You see how sly they are,” the colonel was amazed. “They’ve already learned how to fight.”

  “That’s nothing. Now I’ll show them some cheerful dancing,” I said.

  “Don’t do this. They are a sorrowful bunch of people in the cells, they won’t be saved from the fire.”

  “We already have very little time left. We have to get out of here somehow,” said Viola.

  The colonel wiped his hand beneath his chin.

  “We have only one way out... Marko and Viola can put on white robes, they can lead out the madmen and together they can all exit the building by the back door. The building, of course, is surrounded. But from that side there are iron doors and the rats would hardly be able to storm them. Those who are there lying in wait won’t bother you. The madmen don’t interest them. Neither do the doctors.”

  “Daddy, I won’t go anywhere without you!”

  “And really, what do you think? We’re going to defend to the very end,” I countered.

  “Nothing will work out. We’re here in a trap. What I’m proposing will give us the opportunity for all of us to be saved, and also to destroy thousands of rats. I’ll set the trap for them myself. Right now the captain and I will set out all our tanks with explosives, all the grenades and packs of trotyl, tying it all together with the Bickford rope fuse. We’ll space them equally along all the corridors. And we’ll hide in the basement. When the rats storm the building, we’ll wait them out, so that as many as possible are packed in here, and then—kaboom! The building will catch fire like a stack of straw, and just the window panes will blow out in the basement.”

  “And then?”

  “And then we’ll blow out the gratings of the window in the basement with an explosion and catch up with you.”

  Viola looked at me with hope, waiting for me to find something once again to dispute. But now I didn’t have any arguments.

  “It’s time,” said the colonel. “We have to make haste so we can lead out all the madmen from here. Who knows, maybe they’ll still come to their senses after those injections. We can’t leave them to the mercy of fate, because they were all people with ideals.”

  From time to time automatic rounds ripped into our conversation. It was the captain shooting all around at the rats who had penetrated the corridor.

  There was no particular bother with the madmen. They submissively allowed themselves to be led out by the hand into the corridor, and waited patiently until we led out the others. We conducted ourselves as carefully as possible with them, in order to, God forbid, not arouse fear or anger in any of them. These unfortunate people were in such a profound state of apathy that I was already worried how we were going to move with them through the entire city. Because they themselves were not emboldened to take a single step.

  “Take each other by the hand,” the colonel advised. “Marko in front, Viola in the middle. This way you’ll make your way from here in a chain.”

  Two of the madmen had bandaged heads. This led me to the thought of wrapping myself up with bandages, so that those who might have seen me in battle wouldn’t recognize me. We put on white robes, and Viola tied up her hair with a white kerchief. Now we resembled either cleaning people or the madmen.

  The colonel gave us pistols, packages with shells, and knives.

  “This is for the worst case, but I hope it won’t come to this... We’ll meet beyond the city near the river where the gardens used to be. Now there are a bunch of deserted houses. Get the madmen settled there and wait for us.”

  In the meanwhile the captain didn’t waste time and quickly set out anything that could possibly ignite and explode in the corridors. In the basement he found some bottles of alcohol and liberally poured it over the floor.

  “Hurry up!” The colonel ordered, leading us to the back door.

  We opened the door, the iron shrieked piercingly, and a threatening rat detachment appeared before us. About two dozen rats immediately bolted at our feet, but the colonel was already waiting with the automatic. The rest of the rats stepped aside. The madmen didn’t interest them, and without resisting, they opened up a path for us. I was walking carefully, so as, God forbid, not to step on anyone’s tail. Behind my back we could hear a loud yelping and rounds from the automatic. Then the rats tried to penetrate the building from under the madmen’s feet. Finally I heard the doors slam shut, and the shooting grew silent.

  One of the rats ran out onto my shoulders and sniffed all around the nape of my neck. Then he twisted and turned here and there and jumped across to my neighbor’s shoulder. My neighbor was a big guy with the neck of a bull and an unbelievably dull look on his face. So dull, in fact, that it seemed that he was the maddest of all the madmen. But when the rat decided to sniff him all over, and jabbed him in the cheek with his mouth, the madman unexpectedly bared his teeth and barked so threateningly that the poor rat was blown away as if by the wind.

  As we were walking past their army, individual rats ran up to us from time to time and sniffed us all over, but they didn’t bother us.

  Suddenly this entire sea shook in a single gust as if an electric spark had run past. I looked over my shoulder and saw that a rabid stream of rats was pouring into the open doors. The colonel was welcoming the guests.

  “Now he’ll strike them,” I could hear next to my ear.

  I gazed at my neighbor and couldn’t believe my own eyes: a normal human face was looking at me. And the trace of the wild look that still dominated before that moment disappeared.

  “You’re not a madman?” I asked in a whisper.

  “Not any more so than you are.”

  “So you’ve been playing the fool intentionally?”

  “Sometimes it can be useful. As you can see, it’s worked out for the best for me. Otherwise they would have been sticking me up with needles, putting me in the same state as all the rest.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us this right away?”

  “Who there knew where you were from and what you were looking for? Could it have been a provocation? Yes, it could have. That’s why...”

  There were fewer and fewer rats in the park. They inundated the building, pouring into it not only through the doors, but even through the windows, which the colonel and captain had left open for them. They crawled on each others’ backs, cutting through the air with their caustic squealing, which for them obviously had replaced a battle cry. They rushed on to meet their death, and I had to admit, that the colonel’s plan turned out to be extraordinarily successful, at least the first part. As to whether the second part would succeed—I wasn’t sure.

  Having walked still further on, we saw four rats in black suits on a wide stump. They were examining a map. About two dozen more guards were on watch around the stump. All of them measured us with curious looks, but didn’t move from their spots.

  Finally ending up in the vicinity of the park, where there wasn’t a single rat, we stopped.

  Viola stepped up to us.

  “Are you the only pseudo-kook here, or is there somebody else?” She asked, smiling.

  “I think I’m the only one... but, it’s possible, that in time the senses will return to somebody else. Maybe we can get to know one another?”

  The sturdy guy’s name was Kost.

  The rats had certainly already filled the building to the brim, because they could even be seen on the roof. Several hundred rats were still roaming around the park, there were many of them even around the building.

  “How come there’s no explosion?” Viola grew nervous.

  “I guess we need to move from here,” said Kost.

  “How do we go?” The girl grew irritated. “Don’t you see how many more rats were left in the park? Our people won’t be able to get through them on their own.”

  “During the explosion a mass
of rats swept around the entire park. Such a scare will ensue, that, by the time they calm down, they’ll be able to escape.”

  “But won’t the building fall down?”

  “What are you saying? This is an old building. You need to take great pains to ruin it. Let’s go. Don’t forget that we’re madmen, and a lot of danger is still waiting for us in the city.”

  “In the city?” I was surprised. “After the explosion, won’t the people understand that the time has finally come to throw off their yoke?”

  “I don’t advise you to try to explain it to them.”

  I shrugged my shoulders, not understanding what he was leading to.

  And right at that moment a deafening explosion reverberated. Flames puffed violently from the windows and doors of the building, breaking the door and window frames, grabbing everything within their reach. More and more rats had gathered on the roof. They comically jumped along the burning metal plate, climbing onto chimneys, sliding and flying down right into the flames. But when the rafters caught fire, they all rolled from the roof dead.

  Several dozen creatures crazed from terror swiftly rushed past us.

  In the air you could sense the caustic odor of scorched bristles, burnt wood, and paint.

  “Let’s go,” Kost ordered. “We’re madmen! Follow the example of how we should act.”

  And really, if someone were observing us, it would have been easy to differentiate us from the others, because they, the real madmen, didn’t pay any attention to the explosion, but just stood there, dejectedly lowering their heads, hand in hand, the way we had left them.

  We walked out of the park and set off along the narrow streets, trying to leave town as quickly as possible. Although we were trying to avoid populated places, we made our way to one particular street where a large crowd of schoolchildren was listening to a rat speaking to them from the open window of the building.

  If we had tried to turn, it possibly could have aroused suspicion. We had to amble past those schoolchildren.

  “Citizens! Our homeland is endangered!” The rat yelled into the megaphone. “The approaching enemy has penetrated into the heart of our city. They’ve broken into the research center of our helmsman, our beloved leader and teacher. They’ve performed a horrifying, evil deed, killing him. Science has lost a distinguished scholar and our young republic its father. Citizens! The army of rats has experienced deep losses. Without having any weapons other than our own teeth and claws, we have thrown ourselves into the fire. In front of bullets and grenades. Thousands of our best sons and daughters have died in this lopsided battle. The last blow met us accidentally when we were hoping to save our leader. The enemies have caused a terrible fire in the building where the most significant part of our glorious army was located. Everyone who was in the building lay down their heads. The situation right now is uncertain and very troubling.

  I am turning to you now as those whom we’ve educated as devoted patriots, to those upon whom our entire hope lies. Arm yourselves with shovels, crowbars and sticks. Form battle companies and occupy a post on every one of the streets. The enemy must be disarmed. We, who have poured out our valuable blood for you, are calling you now to repay us for our constant love and care for you. Death to the enemies of the fatherland!”

  “Death! Death! Death!” The schoolchildren chanted.

  “What horror!” I shuddered.

  “If you want to, as you can see, you can raise a person to be a rat. Look at the windows—aren’t these real rats?”

  The heads of people stuck out in the windows and listened to their rat’s calls.

  Some of the schoolchildren pointed their hands at us.

  “These are the madmen,” the rat explained. “They’re not harmful to us. Let them go in peace.”

  At that time someone’s head in hair curlers poked out from one of the windows.

  “These aren’t madmen! These are masked enemies!” An ugly crone began to shriek. “I noticed that they were talking to one another!”

  “Me too! I noticed too!” It echoed from another window.

  “Strike them!” Somebody else bawled.

  “Those two in front!” A woman shouted and tossed a flowerpot at us.

  “Squadron! Get ready!” The voice of the rat reverberated.

  “Oh, this is already getting serious,” Kost said. “That’s enough pretending that we’re crazy, let’s hide behind the gate.”

  “Anywhere but behind the gate!” Viola ran up to us. “They’ll lock us up there and won’t release us.”

  A stone flew at us. They threw flowerpots at us from the windows, kitchen pots, everything that happened to be within reach.

  “Onward! To the attack!” The rat implored.

  “What are you doing?” The girl shoved me. “Take out your pistol!”

  Out of surprise I had forgotten about it.

  “Ow!” Kost groaned, getting hit in the shoulder by a stone.

  I shot at the rat, but hit the megaphone.

  “We have to make our way forward,” said Viola.

  “But they’re flinging stones at us!” I answered.

  “Then shoot at them!” Kost shouted.

  “At the children?” I was surprised.

  “What kind of children are these? These are rats! Give me your pistol.”

  He tore the weapon away from me and shot into the crowd. One little boy fell, grabbing his leg. The people in the windows began to shriek, banging the windows shut, hiding in the shadows of their rooms. The schoolchildren threw themselves up onto the gate.

  The rat babbled something, but no one was listening to him. The girl aimed and in a single shot knocked him down.

  The madmen, in the meanwhile, had already trotted along the length of the wall like mechanical dolls. We hurried after them. Kost and Viola were covering our rear guard.

  From time to time from behind the gates a stone flew out and we were forced to defend ourselves.

  I halted above the little boy who had been shot. He was lying in a pool of blood but was still alive. His body shuddered from the pulsing pain, his lips became blue, and whispered: “Mom... Mom... Mom...” But in the eyes that were gazing at me I saw only an animal’s ferocity. “You won’t save him, Marko,” the girl tugged at my sleeve. “These are lost children.”

  “But they are people!”

  “No they’re not, they’re little rats.”

  A woman ran along the street, sobbing loudly, and when, in due time, I looked back, I saw her above the little boy’s body.

  Unexpectedly about two dozen rats jumped out from the gate and threw themselves after us in haste. I took the pistol from Kostya and killed two of them, Viola another two, and the rest of them disappeared behind the gate again.

  While we were making our way through the city, the fixed gazes of people followed us from the windows along the entire road. In no way did they show their enmity toward us, being fearful of the bullets, but neither did they support us, and only gloomily followed us with their eyes. Didn’t it come to mind to any of them that very little was left to achieve freedom?

  “What’s with them—with these people?” I was surprised. “How can they watch like this indifferently? Today they have the opportunity to remove their yoke. Why not take advantage of it?”

  “Because the yoke has grown into their necks,” said Kost. “An ox that has gotten used to the yoke and driver feels helpless in the open field. He becomes doomed from the excess of freedom.”

  “But you can never have too much freedom!” Viola contradicted.

  “Accustomed captivity is also safer than unaccustomed freedom. People fear the unknown.”

  “But anyway, how can one get accustomed to the rats?” I didn’t understand. “How can one permit children to be abused this way? Where do they get so much inhuman ferocity that even the death of their comrade doesn’t frighten them?”

  “Because in school they got the idea of the Great Deed shoved into their heads,” said Kost. “They were taugh
t to love their Homeland and its interests above everything else. The children rejected their parents and voluntarily entered militarized orphanages. The children themselves turned in their parents to the asylum, when the latter tried to interfere...” His voice began to quiver, and catching my glance, added: “Yes, that’s the way it was with me. My son sent me off to the asylum, informing them that I was carrying on anti-rat propaganda.”

  We quickly ended up in the outskirts. The buildings disappeared little by little and wild, untended gardens dotted with wooden huts emerged. Several of the gardens were overgrown with poppies and thick raspberry bushes, currents and gooseberries. Not far away a river was flowing, and across it you could see a meadow, in which buses were rusting, as well as tramcars, automobiles, and all kinds of scrap iron. There was even a black locomotive rising up with several battered cars. A stork in a nest was perched on its exhaust pipe.

  The madmen wandered into the bushes and threw themselves at the berries.

  “They’re not so stupid,” I said to Kost, taking an example from them.

  Just Viola sat in the grass, wrapping her arms around her knees, and sadly gazed at the road that led to town.

  “They’re deprived of memory, deprived of desires, besides the most necessary ones—juice, food, water... Well, in general they’re retarded... though you can even talk with some of them,” Kost recounted. “Maybe if we’d take care of them, then some would return to their senses.”

  “Why, then, did the rats allow the madmen to exit the park?”

  “Because you killed the one who understood something about this. There wasn’t anybody else in the hospital. Now maybe an extraordinary confusion has already ensued. Now both we and the madmen are in the same danger.”

  “Maybe it’s not worth it to stop here?” I asked.

  “And what about father?” Viola chimed in.

  “Well, I, let’s say, would stay here and wait,” said Kost, “ the problem is that the place is wide open for many kilometers up further on, and, when they reach you, there won’t be any possibility of occupying a defensive position. It’s better here.”