The Night Watch

by Sergei Lukyanenko

Page 46

  'Volgograd Avenue. '

  I could slit all their throats, or shoot them all right here and now! Every last one of them. They were the Dark's rejects and the failures, the dunces who had no prospects because they had too many shortcomings. It wasn't simply that the Dark Ones didn't feel sorry for them – they were a hindrance, they got in the way. The Day Watch was nothing like the almshouse that we sometimes resembled. The Day Watch got rid of anyone who was surplus to requirements. In fact, it usually got us to do the job, handing them a trump card, the right to respond, to redress the balance.

  And the Twilight figure that had directed me to the Ostankino Tower was another product of the Dark. An insurance policy, in case I couldn't guess where I ought to go to fight my battle.

  But the real action was being co-ordinated by just one Other.

  Zabulon.

  He didn't feel the least resentment against me. Of course not. What use would such complex and petty feelings be in a serious game like this?

  He'd eaten dozens like me for breakfast, removing them from the board, sacrificing his own pawns to pay for them.

  When would he decide that the game was played out and it was time for the endgame?

  'Do you have a light?' I asked, putting down my beer mug and picking up a pack of cigarettes lying on the counter. Someone had forgotten them, maybe one of the restaurant's customers, fleeing in a state of panic, maybe one of the Dark Ones.

  Tiger Cub's eyes lit up and she tensed her muscles. I realised the sorceress could start her battle transformation at any moment. She must have assessed the enemy's strength too. She knew we had a serious chance of success.

  But there was no need.

  The old third-grade Dark Magician casually held out his Ronson lighter. It gave a tuneful little click and shot out a tongue of flame, and he carried on talking.

  'There's only one reason why you constantly accuse the Dark of playing a double game and organising deliberate provocations – in order to disguise the fact that you're not fit to survive. Your failure to understand the world and its laws. When you get right down to it, your failure to understand ordinary people! Once it's accepted that the diagnosis made by the Dark Side is far more accurate, then what becomes of your morality? Of your whole philosophy of life? Eh?'

  I lit up, nodded politely and headed for the exit. Tiger Cub watched me go with a puzzled look. Well, you just figure out for yourself why I'm leaving.

  I'd found out all I could round here.

  Or rather – almost all.

  I leaned down towards the short haircut of the young guy in glasses who had his nose stuck in his notebook and asked briskly:

  'What districts are we closing off last?'

  'Botanical Gardens and the Economic Exhibition,' he answered, without even looking up. The cursor carried on sliding across the screen. The Dark One was issuing instructions, relishing his power as he moved red dots across the map of Moscow. It would have been harder to prise him away from the exercise than to drag him away from his girlfriend.

  They know how to love too, after all.

  'Thanks,' I said, dropping my burning cigarette into the full ashtray. 'That's very helpful. '

  'No worries,' the terminal operator said casually, without looking round. He poked the tip of his tongue out of his mouth and stuck another dot on the map: one more rank-and-file Dark One moving into the round-up. What are you so delighted about, you stupid idiot? The ones with real power will never appear on your map. You'd be better off playing with toy soldiers if power's the way you get your kicks.

  I slid across to the spiral staircase. All the fury I'd felt on my way here – the determination to kill or, more likely, be killed – had disappeared. I'm sure at some point during a battle a soldier enters a state of icy calm. The same way a surgeon's hands stop trembling when the patient starts dying on the operating table.

  What possible variants have you provided for, Zabulon?

  That I start thrashing about in the nets closing in around me, and the commotion attracts both Light Ones and Dark Ones, all of them – and especially Svetlana?

  No, that one's out.

  That I give myself up or get caught and then the long, slow, exhausting trial starts, concluding in a frenzied outburst by Svetlana at the tribunal?

  No, that one's out.

  That I start a fight with your field headquarters operatives and kill them all, but end up trapped a third of a kilometre above the ground, and Svetlana comes racing to the tower?

  No, that one's out.

  Or I take a stroll round the field headquarters and figure out that no one there knows anything about the Maverick, and try to play for time?

  That's a possibility.

  The ring was getting tighter, I knew that. It had been closed off first round the outskirts of the city, along the Moscow Ring Road, then the city had been carved up into districts and the major transport routes had been closed off. It still wasn't too late to take a quick look around nearby districts that weren't under surveillance yet, find a hiding place and try to lie low. The only advice the boss had been able to give me was to hold out for as long as possible, while the Night Watch was racing about, trying to find the Maverick.

  It's no accident that you're squeezing me into the district where we had our little scuffle last winter, is it, Zabulon? I can't help remembering it, so one way or another the way I act is bound to be affected by my memories.

  The observation platform was completely empty now. The final visitors had fled, and there were no staff – only the man I'd recruited, standing by the stairs, clutching his pistol in his hand and staring downwards with his eyes blazing.

  'Now we'll change clothes again,' I told him. 'The Light thanks you. Afterwards you'll forget everything we've talked about. You'll go home. All you'll remember is that it was an ordinary day, like yesterday. Nothing much happened. '

  'Nothing much happened!' the security man blurted out cheerfully as he took my clothes off. It's so easy to turn humans to the Light or the Dark, but they're happiest of all when they're allowed to be themselves.

  CHAPTER 6

  ONCE I WAS out of the tower I stopped, stuck my hands in my pockets and stood there for a while, looking at the beams of the searchlights lancing up into the sky and the brightly lit security checkpoint.

  There were just two things I didn't understand in the game being played out by the two Watches, or rather, by their leaders.

  That Other who had departed into the Twilight – who was he and whose side was he on? Had he been warning me or trying to frighten me off?

  And the kid, Egor – had I really met him just by chance? And if not, had our meeting been a destiny node or just another of Zabulon's moves?

  I knew next to nothing about inhabitants of the Twilight. Maybe even Gesar himself knew nothing.

  But at least I could think a bit about Egor.

  He was a card that hadn't been dealt yet. Maybe only a low card, but a trump, like all of us. And small trumps have their uses too. Egor had already been in the Twilight – the first time when he tried to see me, the second time when he escaped from the vampire. That wasn't a very good hand, to be honest. Both times he'd been led by fear, and that should have meant his future was decided. Maybe he could linger on the borderline between human and Other for a few more years, but his path led to the Dark Ones.

  It's always best to look the truth squarely in the face. It didn't make the slightest bit of difference that so far Egor was just like any other good kid. If I survived, I'd still have to ask for his ID every time I met him – or show him my own.

  Zabulon could probably influence him. Send him to any place I happened to be. That reminded me that he probably had no difficulty sensing where I was either. I was prepared for that.

  But I still didn't know if our 'chance' meeting had any meaning.

  Going on what the Dark computer operator had said – that they
weren't combing the Economics Exhibition district yet – it had. I might get the wild idea of using the boy somehow – hiding in his apartment or sending him to get help. I might head for his building. Right?

  Too complicated. Way too tricky. They could take me easily enough anyway. I was missing something, something crucially important.

  I walked towards the road and didn't look round again at the tower that held the Dark Ones' sham headquarters of the day. I'd almost even forgotten about the shattered body of the magician who'd been guarding it, lying somewhere near the foot of the tower at that moment. What did they want me to do? What was it? That was the point I had to start from.

  Act as bait. Get caught by the Day Watch. Get caught in a way that would leave no doubt that I was guilty. And that had as good as happened already.

  After that, Svetlana wouldn't be able to control herself. We could protect her and her parents. The one thing we couldn't do was interfere in her own decisions. And if she started trying to save me, to pluck me out of the Day Watch's dungeons or rescue me from the tribunal, she would be killed. Swiftly and without hesitation. The whole game had been designed so she could make a wrong move. The whole game had been set up a long time ago, when the Dark Magician Zabulon had seen the appearance of a Great Sorceress in the future and the part I was destined to play. The traps had been set. The first one had failed. The second one was holding its greedy jaws wide open right now. Maybe there was a third still to come.

  But where did a kid who still couldn't manifest his magical powers come into all this?

  I stopped.

  He was Dark, that must be it!

  And who was it who killed Dark Ones? Weak, unskilled Dark Ones who didn't want to develop?

  One more body laid at my door – but what was the point?

  I didn't know. But I did know that the kid was doomed and the meeting in the metro hadn't been any accident. I could see that clearly now. I must have been experiencing prevision again or another piece of the jigsaw had simply fallen into place.

  Egor would die.

  I remembered the way he'd looked at me on the platform in the station, with his shoulders hunched over, wanting to ask me something and shout abuse at me all at the same time, to shout out loud the truth about the two Watches, the truth he'd seen too early. I remembered the way he'd turned and run for the train.

  'They'll protect you, won't they? Your Watch?'

  'They'll try. '

  Of course they'd try. They'd keep looking for the Maverick right to the end.

  That was the answer!

  I stopped walking and seized hold of my head. Light and Dark, how could I be so stupid? So hopelessly naïve?

  They wouldn't spring the trap as long as the Maverick was still alive. Making me look like a psychopath out on the hunt, a poacher from the Light Side, wasn't enough. They needed to kill the real Maverick as well.

  The Dark Ones knew who he was – or at least Zabulon did. And more important than that – they could control him. They tossed his victims to him – members of their own kind they didn't see as particularly useful. And for the Maverick what was happening right now wasn't just one more heroic incident – he was totally absorbed in the battle against the Dark. He had Dark Ones coming at him from every side: first the female shape-shifter, then the Dark Magician in the restaurant, and now Egor. He must be thinking the whole world had gone crazy, that the Apocalypse was just round the corner, that the powers of the Dark were taking over the world. I wouldn't have liked to be in his shoes.