Everything in vain. I had already been corrupted to the core. I hate the red line, it was to … Grey to me. I wanted a colorful life, wanted to play music and paint. So my father once let a mosaic be destroyed for educational purposes. With that I learnt that everything beautiful could perish. And he made me destroy it. And so I did. But while I did that I remembered every detail, even now I could still put it together … And since that moment I hated my father”
“You can’t say that!” Yelled Sasha horrified.
“I can.” Leonid smiled. “Others are shot for it. That with the emerald city … My professor had told me about it.
He had whispered it to me when I was still small.
And so I decided to find the entrance when I would be older. There had to be a place where for what I was for living made sense. Where all live was like back then. Where I wasn’t a small, ugly no good, no white handed prince and no inheritor to the red line but an equal under equals”
“And you’ve never found that place.” Sasha put away her knife. She had found the core of all his words.
“Because it doesn’t exist”
Leonid shrugged with his shoulders. He stood up, went to the bell and rang it. “Probably it doesn’t matter if somebody hears me on the other side. Probably it doesn’t even matter if this place even exists. The main thing is that I believe that it exists somewhere. That someone hears me. And that I haven’t earned the right yet so that they would open up.
“And that’s enough for you?”
Again the musicians shrugged with his shoulders.
“It’s always have been enough for the world, so it’s enough for me”
Homer ran onto the train platform and looked around confused. Hunter was nowhere to be seen. Behind him Melnik rolled out of the prison, grey and beat down as if the brigadier had received not just his tags but also his from him soul.
Why had he ran away again and to where? Why had he left Homer? He wouldn’t ask Melnik. Homer was trying to get out of his way before he remembered him. So Homer acted like he wanted to catch up to the brigadier and stepped away hastily. Waiting for a yell from behind. But Melnik didn’t seem to be interested in him anymore.
Hunter had said that he needed Homer so that he wouldn’t forget his former self. Had he lied? Maybe he had just tried to avoid a fighting polis in his rage which he could easily have lost and what would’ve blocked his way to the Tulskaya. His abilities and his killer instinct were paranormal but nobody could dare to storm an entire station. If that was true then Homer had served his purpose by accompanying Hunter to polis and now he had been pushed from the stage.
And not very soft.
So he had taken part in the end of the story, he had taken part in the final act that the brigadier, or whoever played the main role.
What were these tags? A passport? An insignia of power? A black mark? Forgiveness for all the sins that Hunter wanted to load onto his soul? Whatever it was: The brigadier had ripped the tags and his approval out of Melnik’s hand.
The brigadier’s hands were free to act. And he hadn’t planned to confess to anyone, that what had won inside of him, that monster that had appeared from time to time had won.
What would happen at the Tulskaya when Hunter would get through to it? Would he be able to quench his thirst when he drowned the entire station in blood, yes even two or three? Or would that what he was carrying inside of him grow till it knew no more bounds?
Who of the two Hunters had Homer accompanied?
The one that consumed the people or the one who fought against the monster? Which one had fallen to the ground at the fight of phantoms at the Polskaya? And who had asked for Homers help after that?
Yes, maybe Homer had another destiny: To kill him.
Was it maybe the small remnants of the old brigadier who had asked the old man for it out of despair?
Did he see it all with his own eyes full of horror while the other hunter killed?
He couldn’t take his own life so the brigadier had chosen his henchman. A henchmen who you didn’t have to ask for anything, who had enough intuition to realize it on his own and smart enough to deceive the other Hunter. The second one who was getting more monstrous day after day and didn’t want to die.
But even though if Homer had the courage and waited for the right moment to kill Hunter when he wasn’t looking, what would that accomplish? He wouldn’t be able to stop the epidemic. So was there nothing he could do but keep watching and writing down?
Homer had guessed where the brigadier had gone. That almost mystical order, which apparently Melnik and Hunter were members of. Rumors said that they had their base at the Smolenskaya, the underground of polis. Its legionaries protected the metro and its inhabitants from all dangers that whole armies of common stations couldn’t deal with.
Nobody knew more about this mystical organization. The old man couldn’t even think about entering the Smolenskaya, it was without an entrance like the fortress Alamut. But for what: To meet with the brigadier he just had to go back to the Dobryninskaya. And wait till fate brought Hunter there without stopping, at the place of his coming crimes, the end station of this strange story.
Should he allow him to settle his score with the infected and disinfect the Tulskaya and then act accordingly to his will? Homer had always thought that he had a different role: Not to shoot, but to give immortality, not to judge and to not get involved and give the heroes of his book the possibility to act on their own. But when you’re standing in blood up to your knees it seemed impossible to not get dirty yourself. Now it was lucky that the girl had left with this smart guy. At least he had spared Sasha from seeing the horrible massacre with her own eyes; even she couldn’t have stopped it. He looked at the clock of the station: When the brigadier stuck to his schedule then Homer had only a few hours. Enough time to be alone. And ask polis for to dance with him one more time.
“And how do you want to earn the right to get in?”
Asked Sasha.
“Well …” Leonid hesitated. “It’s stupid, I know, but … With my flute. I thought I could redeem myself with it.
You know, music is the first art to disappear. It only exists as long the instruments sounds and in the next moment it is gone without a trace. But nothing grips people as strong as music, nothing hurts so deep and heals so slowly. When somebody touches you with a melody it stays with you for your whole life. It is the extract of beauty. I thought I could heal the wounds of the soul with it.
“You’re strange”
“But now I’ve realized that someone who is sick can’t heal sick people. If I don’t tell you everything I can never stop them”
She gave him a sharp look. “Do you think that I’m going to forgive you? Your lies, your cruelty?”
“Will you give me one last chance?” Leonid smiled at her. “You’ve said that we all deserve one”
Sasha was silent. She had gotten more careful.
This time she wouldn’t get swept away by one of his strange games.
She had just thought that he was truly sorry and his words to be true and now … Again?
“Out of everything that I’ve told you one thing is true.
There is a cure.” He said.
“Medication?” Sasha turned around; again ready to be lied to again.
“No medication. No pills, no vaccine. A few years ago at our line, the Preobraschenskaya, we had a similar disease”
“Why doesn’t hunter know of it?”
“There was no epidemic. The disease went away by itself. The virus can’t stand radiation. Something happens to it, I think it stops dividing … Well you can stop the disease even with small doses. We found it out. You don’t need anything else. The solution of the problem, so to speak is on the surface”
Shivering she took his hand. “Really?”
“Really.” he put his hand in hers. “We don’t need to do anything else but get in contact with them and tell them”
She let go of his hand. �
�Why didn’t you tell me sooner? That’s just! How many people die up till now!”
“After just one day? None … I didn’t want you to stay with this killer. I wanted to tell you from the beginning, but I wanted to trade this secret for you”
“You’ve traded me against the life’s of others!”
Hissed Sasha. “I am not worth … One of them!”
The musician raised one eyebrow. “I would trade mine”
“You don’t get to decide that! Stand up! We need to go back. And that fast. As long as he didn’t already make it to the Tulskaya …” Sasha put her finger on her watch, whispered something and sighed. “Just three more hours!”
“Why? We can use the telephone. I’ll let them call Hanza and explain everything. Then we don’t have to run to there ourselves. We wouldn’t make it anyway …”
“No!” Sasha shook her head. “No! They won’t believe it. They wouldn’t belive us. I have to go to him myself and tell him. To explain to him …”
“And what then?” Said Leonid envious. “Then you give in to him just out of fun?”
“That’s none of your business.” She answered. But she immediately knew who she could control this man who had fallen in love the easiest: “I don’t want anything from him. But without him I don’t have any chance to get through”
“It seems my lies have been a good teacher”
Answered Leonid with a slight smile. Then he sighed. “Ok, let’s go”
They reached the Sportivnaya in half an hour: The guards had changed and Leonid had to explain again how a girl without a passport could’ve crossed the border to the red line.
Sasha looked nervous at her watch and Leonid at her, you could see that he was torn from one side to the other.
He was fighting with himself.
On the train platform, thin recruits put a few bundles of wares on an old, stinking railcar, drunk workers acted like they were stopping a leak and a few children in uniforms sang a children’s song. In five minutes they had stopped Leonid and her to see their passports a few times and the control at the tunnel to the Frunsenskaya took especially long.
Time was running out. Sasha didn’t even know if they could make it in the two hours that were left of their ultimatum anymore. Nobody could stop Hunter and it could be possible that he had already started with his operation.
The soldiers had finished loading the railcar, the railcar spit out smoke, started moving and came closer.
Leonid made a decision.
“I don’t want to let you go.” He said. “But I can’t stop you. I thought if I made sure that you came too late you wouldn’t need anything there anymore. But I’ve understood that I can’t get you that way. Being honest is the worst way to get a woman, but I don’t want to lie anymore. Choose yourself with whom you want to be”
The musician ripped the border guard the wonder passport out of his hand and punched him surprisingly fast at the chin. Then he took Sasha’s hand and dragged her with him onto the railcar which was leaving at that moment. When he driver looked around he looked surprised into the barrel of a revolver.
Leonid was laughing loudly. “Dad would be proud of me now! How often did I have to hear that I’m just wasting my time and that I’ll never be something with my stupid flute! And finally when I act like a real man he isn’t here!
What a tragedy!” Then he ordered the driver “Jump!” He even though they were going fast dropped to the ground and rolled behind in the darkness screaming. Leonid started to throw their cargo overboard, with every bundle that fell onto the tracks the motor roared louder. The old search light in front the railcar threw a secure and flickering light forward that maybe reached a few meters. Screaming like somebody was scraping on glass, rats were chased away by the wheels and a surprised tunnel guard jumped to the side at the last moment and in the distance they could hear the hysterical howling of the alert siren. The tunnel segments went by them faster and faster, Leonid brought the last bit of speed out of the machine.
They flew past the Frunsenskaya. The unknowing guards stormed away like the rats and only as the railcar had left the station far behind angrily the siren of the Sportivnaya howled alarm.
“Now it has started!” Screamed Leonid. “We got to make it to the ring line at the next side tunnel! There is a huge defense line where they’re going to try and stop us. We drive on along the line to the center!”
He knew about what they had to be afraid off: Out of the side tunnel that had lead her to the red line, the search light of a diesel powered railcar hit them. The tunnel was only a few feet away from them and it was too late to stop. Leonid pressed the rough pedal to the metal and Sasha closed her eyes … It was only left to hope that they hadn’t changed the tracks to theirs yet, if they would have a frontal collision with the other vehicle. A machine gun thundered and bullets flew only a few centimeters over their heads. The smell of something burning and the hot air surrounded them, the other motor roared and went silent again. The two vehicles had missed each other like out of a miracle.
As soon as the railcar had passed the tunnel the other railcar followed their trail. While they drove to the Park kultury, swinging from one side to the other, the diesel powered railcar drove into the other direction.
They still had a head start. To the next station it would be enough, but what then? The railcar got slower, the tunnel was going uphill. Leonid turned to Sasha. “The next station is Park kultury, it’s almost directly under the surface.
The Frunsenskaya on the other hand is fifty meters below it. We got to get over that hill and then we’re going to pick up speed again!”
And it happened that way: When they had reached Park kultury they had gotten faster again. The station was old and prideful, with a high ceiling but somehow lifeless, dark and only sparsely inhabited. Croaking a siren raised its husky voice. Behind defense lines made out of bricks you could see many heads. Assault rifles barked angry. But too late, they couldn’t do anything.
“Maybe we’ll even stay alive!” Leonid laughed.
“With a bit of luck …”
They saw how something that looked like a spark in the darkness at first, then it got brighter and closer. It was the search light of diesel powered railcar! The ray out light was like a spear it had raised in front of it, as if it wanted to ram it into the old railcar t. It ate the distance between them. Again machine guns were fired and bullets went past them howling.
“Not long now! There is the Kropotkinskaya!”
The Kropotkinskaya, divided into squares, full of tents, run down and unclean. Certain portraits on the wall which had been painted a long time ago and were already smeared. Flags and nothing but flags, so many that they formed a continuous red band like frozen blood in vein out of stone.
This time it was a grenade launcher that threw its cargo after them. A hail of marble splinters rained down onto the railcar and one of them hit Sasha’s leg without leaving a deep wound. They had dropped a barricade from the ceiling but the railcar just broke through it while it almost went off the rails.
The diesel powered railcar got closer and closer:
Its motor was a lot more powerful and moved the colossus that had been reinforced with steel without any problems. Sasha and Leonid laid down flat so that they could find cover behind the low metal railing and get out of the way of the never ending hail of bullets.
In a few moments the bumpers of both vehicles would hit each other and they would board their railcar …
Sasha looked at Leonid frantic, who had seemed to have lost his mind because he was suddenly undressing himself.
In front of them was the defense line, sandbags and tank stoppers made out of steel: The goal of their escape.
Now two search lights would be pointed on them and two heavy machine guns. They would hit them like a hammer an anvil.
Just one more minute and it would all be over.
Salvation (Chapter 18)
The group was a few dozen meters long. They were th
e best fighters of the Sevastopolskaya, Denis Michailovitsch had choosen every single one of them carefully. Their small helmet lamps flickered in the darkness of the tunnel and suddenly the commander thought that the whole formation looked like giant swarm of glowworms that was flying through the night.
A warm and good smelling summer night at the Krim, over the cypress and near the soft sounding ocean. This place to where the colonel hoped he would go after his death …
A pleasant shiver went over him but at the same time he shook himself, put on his dark look and yelled at himself. Yes, even he had started to get weak. It was his age!
He let the last soldier pass him, opened his steel cigarette box and took one of his last self made cigarette out of it, smelled at it and lit his lighter.
It was a good day. He still had luck, everything happened as planned. They had passed the Nagornaya without any casualties. One single soldier had disappeared for a moment but he had returned to the column. All were happy:
To go to war was easier then to wait for eternity and not knowing what was going on.
Also Denis Michailovitsch had allowed them to get a good night sleep before the fight. Just he himself hadn’t been able to close one eye.
Fate had always just been a chain of coincidental events for him so the old fighter couldn’t understand why someone could trust himself to it. Since he had gone to the small expedition to the Kachovskaya there had been no message from them. It was possible that even Hunter wasn’t immortal.
What had he been thinking when he had sent the half crazy brigadier and the old story telling old man? He couldn’t wait anymore.
The plan was that the main part of their fighters would go through the Nachimovski prospect, Nagornaya and the Nagatinskaya to the southern gate of the Tulskaya and take the station by surprise. He had men on the surface as well. Their orders were to get into the tunnels through the vents and eliminate the guards if there were still some. Finally they would open the gate for the main force. It was all about a question of military strategy, it didn’t matter who was occupying the station.
Dmitry Glukhovsky - Metro 2034 English fan translation (v1.0) (docx) Page 30