But their long nocturnal conversation, their attempts to understand what was happening and make sense of the latest stage in the war between the Watches had had an effect. Igor had been distracted from his misery and suffering. He had felt he was part of a team again.
Could that have been what Gesar was counting on? In that case, all of his behavior, including the present scene, had been carefully calculated!
But after all, the boss was right, Igor's mind was simply clouded.
"Gesar, there are things that even you have no right to ask!" Igor suddenly said. He said it abruptly, with a reawakened fury. With life in his voice.
"Yes, of course, Captain Igor Teplov." Gesar's voice was as cold as ice. "I have no right. But who had the right to ask you to swim down the Dnieper under fire in November '42? And who had the right…"
"That's different."
"Why is it?" Gesar stood up, walked over to Igor and stopped still in front of him again, a head shorter than Igor, small and wiry, not looking at all heroic. "Do I have to explain to you, Teplov, what a war requires? It's not bodies that a war devours, but souls! And you knew that in the glorious city of Berlin, when you used your knife on that poor snot-nosed kid from the Hitler Jugend to make him give his friends away-you knew that."
Igor started as if he'd been slapped across the face.
"Conscience… love… honor…" Gesar said thoughtfully. "No one has the right to make anyone go against their conscience. No one has the right to make anyone betray love. No one has the right to persuade anyone to betray their honor. No one.
You're right. But we do it! Of our own accord. When one pan of the scales holds our love, conscience, and honor, and the other holds a million loving, decent, honorable people. We're no angels, that's not for us. And I understand your pain, believe me! But you take a look at Alisher! And try to understand his pain! Ask Anton what he thinks about the one you love. Ask Svetlana."
"I can't condemn Igor," Svetlana said quietly. "I'm sorry, boss. Forgive me, Alisher. Maybe I'm just a fool… unworthy to work in the Watch. But I can understand all of you."
She said this in a very low voice, without any emphasis, but Gesar stopped talking and moved away from Igor. He spread his hands and asked, "Do you think I don't understand?"
The silence in the room was thick and heavy.
"Gesar, when it was my duty, I carried out my orders," Igor suddenly said. "Honestly, right down the line. Regardless of… what I thought or felt. But my duty's done now. I've reached the end of the line."
"No. That's where you're wrong, Igor." Gesar started walking round the room and took a cigar out of his pocket. He looked at it and frowned, put it back and took out a pack of democratic Pall Malls. He crumpled that and gestured in annoyance. "The Watch needs you. We all need you. I need you."
"Svetlana needs me…" Igor remarked casually.
"Svetlana, Alisher, Ilya, Semyon, Bear-all of us!" Gesar said very quickly. "Of course!"
Igor smiled, as if reconciling himself to the fact that he couldn't finish what he wanted to say. And then he suddenly asked in a businesslike, serious voice, "For long?"
"Twenty years at most," Gesar said quite calmly, as if he'd been expecting this question.
"Gesar, do you hope that will be long enough for me to stop loving Alisa?"
"That too," Gesar admitted. "But the Watch needs you right now. In the years immediately ahead."
"What do you want me to do, Gesar?"
"Don't get in our way, Igor. We're going to try to get you out of this. And we will get you out of it, believe me, if you just don't get in our way… or even better, if you help us just a little bit."
Igor thought about it. Then he said, "I won't accuse Alisa Donnikova of enchanting me. It's not true."
"But you can express the suspicion that your meeting was set up by the Moscow Day Watch?"
"Yes, I can," Igor said with a nod. "That's probably the way it was."
"That's enough," said Gesar with a shrug. "I don't ask anything else of you." And he really did look satisfied with that.
Anton cleared his throat and waited for Gesar to look at him. Then he said, "Boris Ignatievich, I'd like to ask you to do something for me. Can you explain what role Igor plays in our latest plot?"
"Just Igor?"
"Yes. What you need Svetlana for, and the devona Alisher, is clear enough already."
The young Uzbeki magician standing stock still in the corner started.
"The new generation's coming along well…" Gesar said in a tired voice. "Shrewd. But stupid at the same time…" He hesitated and looked around at everyone there. Then he shook his head, and Anton sensed the Power spreading around them and flooding the room. The elastic wall was pressing something back, squeezing it out… "I can't tell you," Gesar admitted unexpectedly. "I can't tell you for one simple reason…"
"We'd refuse to cooperate?" Anton asked sharply.
Gesar shook his head. "No. On the contrary. I swear on the Light that what is going on will cause no harm to any of you. Neither to your magical or your human being… In fact, you would cooperate with genuine, sincere zeal. But…"
He was weighing every word now.
"What is taking place now really is the final operation of the Moscow Night Watch. Unfortunately, it is also the final operation of the Day Watch. Too much depends on the actions taken by everyone sitting here, as well as on the actions taken by our enemies. We are making our moves and our enemies are making theirs. They could be wrong, unsuccessful, mistaken. But the victory will go to those who make the final correct move."
"The victors are never judged," Anton agreed. "And the pieces on a chessboard are not given the right to move independently."
"Zabulon will easily read any move that any of you make!" Gesar barked. "And don't imagine, Anton, that when you rammed the Mirror's car it was a move that hadn't been foreseen! Yes, it was a successful move, the lesser of two evils. But even that was anticipated. By Zabulon… and by me." He paused for breath and went on more calmly: "Folks… to me you are not just pieces on a chessboard. Believe me. You're more than just tools."
"But one of us," said Svetlana with a smile acknowledging that she was the only woman in the room, "is the lathe for producing a tool?"
Anton didn't ask how she had realized. Maybe she'd been drawing up diagrams too-without letting even him know? Or maybe she'd already sensed something when she still had her powers?
Gesar paused, lowering his head. He seemed to be thinking hard… And then Anton realized that the strength of the protective cocoon around them had increased to a quite incredible level. Where was the limit to the Power of the Great Magicians? Was there even a limit to it at all?
"All right," Gesar said with a nod. "Svetlana, you're right… but only partly… ah, Light and Darkness!"
He lowered himself into an armchair, took out the cigarettes again, and lit one. He took two drags and started speaking: "Svetlana, you are a Great Enchantress. They're only born every few centuries. Potentially, you're more powerful than Olga… probably… But your value to the Light Ones-and I don't mean just our Watch, but Light Ones in general-is that you can become the mother of the Messiah."
"After Olga rewrote my Book of Destiny," Svetlana said.
"No. Not after that. It's not possible to rewrite the destiny of an Other as easily as the destiny of a human being. It was predetermined from the very beginning. We only corrected a few details. Minor ones. That don't affect you or the future… the prospective child."
"What details?" The anger could suddenly be heard in Svet-lana's voice, the anger she'd restrained for so long. Now it was Anton who wanted to shout out as her fingers dug into the palm of his hand.
"Only the date." Gesar had no intention of giving way to pressure from Svetlana. "Nothing but the date. Two thousand years after the birth of Christ is the peak of human belief in the coming of the Messiah."
"Thank you very much," said Svetlana in a voice trembling with fury. "So you decided when
I would have him and who his father would be?"
"In the first place, why 'him'?" Gesar asked.
Anton had been on the point of putting in a few words, mostly to clarify what Svetlana had said about the father, but he choked on this swift rejoinder. Svetlana's hand went limp too.
"For some the father and mother decide, for some it's the drunken obstetrician, for others it's an extra glass of vodka," Gesar said in a melancholy voice. There was no need for him to say "in the second place."
"Svetlana, my child! It's dangerous to play with such forces, with such predetermination. Even I'm not trying to do that. It is predetermined that you can give birth to a daughter who will become the greatest figure in the war between the Light and the Darkness. Her word will change the entire world. Her word will make sinners repent. At a glance from her the greatest magicians of Darkness will go down on their knees."
"It's only a probability…" Svetlana whispered.
"Of course. There is no fate-which is both unfortunate and fortunate. But you must believe that an old, weary magician is doing everything he can to make it a reality."
"I should have stayed a human being…" Svetlana whispered. "I should have…"
"Have you looked at any icons recently?" Gesar asked. "Look into Mary's eyes and think why they're always so sad."
The room was very quiet.
"I've already told you more than I have any right to." Gesar spread his arms in a guilty shrug, and for the first time ever it seemed to Anton that he wasn't acting at all. "But I have told you, I've put one foot over the line of what is permissible. It's up to you to decide. To think who is a figure on a chessboard, and who is a rational individual, capable of seeing past imaginary offenses."
"Imaginary?" Svetlana asked bitterly.
"When they explained that you had to wash your hands after playing in the sandpit or made you tie the ribbon on your braid in a bow-that was interference in your destiny too," said Gesar. "And I think it was justified."
"You're not my father, Boris Ignatievich!" said Svetlana.
"No, of course not. But to me, you're all my children…" Gesar sighed. "I'll wait for you in the hall… that is, Alisher and I will wait. Join us if you want to."
He went out, and the devona followed him like a shadow.
Igor was the first to say anything. "What hurts most is that he's right about some things."
"If you'd been told that you have to give birth to a Messiah, then I'd talk to you about what's right or wrong," Svetlana replied abruptly.
"That would be rather, well… difficult for me," Igor admitted in an embarrassed voice.
Anton was the first to smile. He looked at Svetlana and said, "Listen… I remember how indignant you were about the injustice of destiny-that generally speaking, Others only have children who are ordinary people…"
"That was just an abstract indignation…" said Svetlana, throwing her hands up in the air. "Boys, I think someone's already been smoking in here…"
Igor handed her a cigarette without speaking.
"Why do everything like that, behind our backs," Svetlana complained as she lit her cigarette. "And what sort of mother would I make… for a Messiah? And a female one at that!"
"Well, Messiah is just the appropriate term, that's all," said Igor. "Relax."
"I'm no virgin!" Svetlana declared gloomily. "And in general… I don't think of myself as a paragon of virtue…"
"Don't draw irrelevant parallels."
Strangely enough, Igor seemed to have calmed down. For real. He was sharp and focused.
"Anton, why don't you say something!" Svetlana burst out. "Doesn't all this concern you at all?"
"I very much hope that it concerns me directly," replied Anton. "And I think we ought to go out now and join Gesar. It's tough on him sitting out there and waiting."
"He already knows everything… in advance…" Svetlana said and turned away.
"No. He doesn't. If we're really not pawns, he doesn't know."
There was the soft sound of guitar strings. Igor was leaning against the wall, holding the instrument. He began singing so softly that Svetlana and Anton both had to stop talking.
The devils ask me to serve,
But I serve no one.
Even myself, even you,
Even the one who has power.
If he is still alive,
I do not serve even him.
I have stolen just enough fire
Not to need to steal any more…
Igor held the guitar out and gently lowered it into an armchair. People put their instrument down like that when they're sure they'll be back soon.
"Shall we go then?"
Edgar was the first Dark One to enter the Tribunal's meeting hall. That was the procedure. He entered through one door at the same time as Anton came in through the door opposite. They bowed their heads to each other in a polite greeting. Edgar did not feel any particular resentment for the Light One and he expected the feeling to be mutual to some extent.
Yes, compared to the small, neglected room in Moscow University, this hall certainly made an impression. This was Europe, after all.
Stone vaulting-heavy and oppressive, but at the same time giving a sense of security and calm. A simple metal chandelier, but with about two hundred candles, and Edgar could have sworn the candles had been burning for more than one century already. They said the Berne department of the Inquisition was located in an ultramodern building, but the Prague department was in a truly ancient one.
Edgar liked the old style better.
The round hall was divided into two parts: One was faced with light marble, the other with dark. There was something at once naive and exalted in this simple visual representation of the two Powers. The little desks for the prosecutors stood at the center, beside a circular metal grille covering a dark hole in the floor.
A wedge of gray marble reached almost to the very center of the hall. That was the Inquisitors' area, and they, of course, were already in their seats. Seven of them. In principle the Inquisition was not regarded as a power equal to the two Watches, but Edgar knew that those seven included two Great Ones-one Dark and one Light. If it wished, the European office could probably fight Gesar and Zabulon on equal terms.
That was good to know.
Anton was followed in by three Light Ones from Moscow. Gesar… well, of course, where would they be without Gesar! Svetlana… that was natural too. And that Uzbeki, Gesar's secretary or personal assistant.
The Dark Ones were already walking along the corridor behind Edgar. Zabulon… Sensing the approach of his chief, Edgar involuntarily looked round-and received a friendly nod from the head of Moscow 's Dark Ones. Well, well… smile, you Judas... you're even worse than Judas: He betrayed his teacher, but you're betraying your disciple!
But then another two Dark Ones followed Zabulon into the hall. Edgar had been prepared to see Anna Lemesheva, but not Yury, who winked mockingly at him. The same Yury who had given Edgar the timely warning about Zabulon's underhand schemes-he hadn't been prepared for that!
Edgar forced himself to turn away from his colleagues and look straight ahead.
Igor was brought in last. Two rank-and-file Inquisitors walked in beside him and accompanied him to the circular grille, three meters across, in the center of the hall.
There was no special magic in that circle, or at least Edgar couldn't sense any. And the mechanism that had once been used to invert the grille and plunge the accused into a deep well shaft looked as if it had rusted up long ago and was no longer used. But even so it didn't look as if standing on that circle was pleasant.
However, Igor paid no attention to that and stood in the center of the circle with his arms crossed on his chest.
"In the name of the Treaty…"
One Inquisitor came forward from the group. The only one who was not wearing gray robes. Witezslav, the Higher Vampire.
"We are Others. We serve different Powers…"
Edgar mechanically re
peated the words of the Treaty, trying to work out what Witezslav would start with. And how he could extricate himself from this mess now.
"Today the European Tribunal of the Inquisition has to consider a claim brought by the Night Watch of the city of Moscow, Russia, against the Day Watch of the city of Moscow, Russia," the vampire announced after the reading of the Treaty. "A counterclaim by the Day Watch of Moscow against the Night Watch of Moscow forms part of the proceedings. Its subject is the duel between the Light magician Igor Teplov, and the Dark witch Alisa Donnikova…"
There were no surprises so far… Edgar felt himself clutching the dark, cool wooden top of his desk and made an effort of will to calm himself down. After all, he was an experienced lawyer. And how were legal proceedings between people any different from legal proceeding between Others?
Except, of course for the nature of the sentence…
"However, the sequence of proceedings will be changed somewhat," said Witezslav. "The Tribunal is also obliged to resolve another two matters connected with the main claim. The first concerns a sect of Dark Ones who call themselves the Regin Brothers, who are guilty of attacking the Inquisition's vault and stealing the artifact known as Fafnir's Talon, smuggling it into Russia, and resisting the Night Watch of Moscow. Bring in the accused."
Another two young Inquisitors led in the four Finns. Faint smiles appeared on the faces of all the Others present-after all, it was impossible to imagine a more ludicrous-looking quartet.
"There is probably no need to recite the circumstances of the incident," said the vampire. "Everyone present is familiar with the materials collected by the Inquisition on this case. The Inquisition's job is to pronounce judgment. Just, impartial, and strict."
It was clear from the expressions on the faces of the four accused that they were not anticipating leniency.
"The punishment for a crime as grave as attacking employees of the Inquisition and stealing a highly dangerous artifact from the vault is unconditional-dematerialization," the vampire declared. He paused and then added something that made the Finns lift up their heads: "But… But the accused did not participate directly in the incident in Berne. As the materials of the case make clear, the leaders of the sect, who unfortunately were killed while being detained, made the four young magicians act as couriers. Therefore, the Inquisition qualifies their actions only as smuggling and resisting the Night Watch of Moscow. There are also extenuating circumstances: profound and sincere remorse, assistance rendered to the investigation after detention, the youth of the accused, and the absence of any previous offenses. If the Night Watch of Moscow can adduce any further extenuating circumstances and will withdraw the personal accusations against the Dark magicians, the Inquisition has the right to mitigate its sentence."
Day Watch Page 42