Night Watch 05 - The New Watch (7 page)

I didn’t like that comment at all. Gesar was acting as if Sveta and Nadya were going to be under siege. But we were talking about a Higher Enchantress here (Svetlana might specialise in healing, but everyone knows that any healing spell can be used just as effectively for attack) and an Absolute Enchantress as well. (The fact that she was only ten years old didn’t make Nadya defenceless. She could set up a perfectly standard Sphere of Negation, but pack so much Power into it that you couldn’t breach it with a cannon.) ‘I heard,’ said Sveta. ‘Right now I’m throwing clean underclothes into a bag . . . Shall I bring anything for you?’

‘Er . . .’ I hesitated. ‘Well, a pair of socks, a couple of pairs of shorts . . .’

‘I’ll take a risk and grab a clean shirt as well,’ Svetlana decided.

When we had almost reached Gesar’s office I decided to speak up after all – the boss wasn’t faltering as he walked along any more, he’d obviously contacted everyone he needed to . . .

‘Boris Ignatievich, I can see you already understand what’s going on . . .’

‘I don’t understand a damn thing, Anton,’ answered Gesar. ‘Not a damn thing. I’ve never even heard of anything like this. And it . . .’ He chewed on his lips, trying to choose the right words. ‘It frightens me.’

He swung the door open and we walked into his office.

THE FIRST THING
I noticed were the portals hanging in the air. The Higher Others summoned by Gesar certainly weren’t wasting any time.

Then I counted the portals. One of them, with a thin, glittering frame, was waiting for my girls to pass through it. And three portals were already slowly fading away.

Three?

I gazed at the people sitting there at the table.

Olga. Clear enough. I nodded to her automatically.

And this quiet little old man with the tousled grey hair, wearing a threadbare suit and wide, old-fashioned tie, looking like an aged professor or doctor?

And this sturdy man with a beard, whose face seemed familiar to me somehow – not from the life of the Watch, but from human life? I’d seen his face on TV, or maybe in the newspapers . . .

We didn’t have anyone like these two in the Watch.

‘Thank you for not delaying,’ said Gesar, walking over to his chair. ‘Let me introduce you. This is Anton Gorodetsky. You must have heard of him.’

‘Who doesn’t know Anton Gorodetsky?’ the little old man said, with a smile.

‘This is Mark Emmanuilovich Jermenson,’ said Gesar. ‘Higher Light One and Battle Magician.’

‘Sergei,’ said the second man, introducing himself. ‘Sergei Glyba. Higher Light One.’

‘I know you,’ I said, finally remembering. ‘You’re . . . you’re that—’

‘Clairvoyant!’ he confirmed delightedly.

He really was a clairvoyant. One of those who are published regularly in the yellow press and equally yellow magazines, who appear on TV and sit among ‘the invited guests’ in the front row at countless talk shows. He had forecast the financial crisis, when it was almost over already; the strengthening of the rouble, just before it fell; the replacement of dollars in the US by some weird kind of ‘ameros’; an asteroid shower; a landing by aliens from space; an epidemic of goat flu; unprecedented growth in the Russian economy; typhoons and earthquakes.

If it had always been the exact opposite of what he forecast that happened, his prophecies would have made some kind of sense. But it was the usual clairvoyant’s babble, a matter of random sensationalism. Sometimes he was mocked in the press, but his imposing appearance and slick tongue made him a favourite with the readers (especially the women) and he was never out of work.

‘You’re a clairvoyant?’ I enquired dubiously.

‘Anton, surely you don’t think I would do serious forecasts for humans?’ Sergei replied, smiling.

‘I’ve never seen you in the Watch,’ I said.

‘They aren’t in the Watch,’ Gesar said morosely. ‘You could say that Mark Emmanuilovich is retired.’

‘Following injury,’ Jermenson added with a jolly smile.

‘And Sergei simply doesn’t want to serve,’ said Gesar.

‘It’s my right,’ replied Glyba. ‘I want to live like a human being.’

Sveta emerged from the final portal, holding Nadya by the hand. The portal immediately faded away.

‘Hello,’ Nadya said very politely. ‘Hello, Uncle Gesar and Aunty Olya.’

Seeing Mark and Sergei gazing at my daughter with undisguised curiosity, I laughed.

‘So everyone’s here – excellent,’ said Gesar. ‘Let’s get down to work. You are all aware of what Anton has found out . . .’

Oho – he’d moved really fast. Not only summoned them, but briefed them too.

‘We have an emergency situation,’ Gesar went on.

‘An extreme emergency, is it?’ Mark Emmanuilovich enquired.

‘Quite extreme,’ Glyba said unexpectedly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. ‘Gesar . . . thank you for getting everyone together.’

‘What do you see?’ Gesar asked, without looking at the clairvoyant.

‘Nothing.’

‘Then why such a panic?’

‘I don’t see
anything
, Gesar.’ Sergei mopped his forehead and gave a crooked smile. ‘That’s why the panic. You know that I can always see something . . .’

‘Usually foul abominations of some kind,’ Gesar muttered.

‘Well, that’s the way life is. But right now – there’s nothing.’

‘Are you forecasting the end of the world, then?’ Jermenson asked him. ‘Is there really nothing afterwards?’

‘No, not necessarily,’ Glyba said, with a frown. ‘With your experience, Emmanuilovich, you ought to be familiar with the basics of divination. A diviner’s “blindness” results from a situation in which the immediate future is being affected by forces that surpass the diviner’s powers by at least one order of magnitude. That is, for the second rank it would have to be a First-Level Magician, for the first level – a Higher Magician . . .’

‘And that leaves us with a quite remarkable conclusion: a force has appeared in Moscow that surpasses the powers of a Higher Magician by an entire order of magnitude,’ Gesar summed up. ‘I don’t know about you, but to me that seems pretty close to the apocalypse . . .’

‘Uncle Gesar.’ Nadya raised her hand down at the far end of the table, where she was sitting with Svetlana. ‘The powers of Higher Ones can’t differ by an order of magnitude, they taught us that in school . . .’

Gesar frowned. ‘Nadya, let’s do without the “Uncle”. You’re . . . er . . .’

‘A big girl now,’ Nadya said amenably. ‘Well, they taught us that the Power possessed by Higher Magicians is practically identical: minor fluctuations measured in the course of direct confrontations of strength like the “press” are of no significance and are not stable. One day one Higher Other has more pure Power, the next day another one does. The most significant factors in confrontations between Higher Ones are experience and the tactics applied in combat.’

‘The exception to the rule?’ Gesar asked curiously.

‘So-called “Zero-Order Magicians” like me,’ Nadya replied without any superfluous modesty. ‘We infinitely surpass the Power of any other magicians, including Higher Magicians, because theoretically we can create a spell with any degree of Power.’

‘With any degree of Power, within the limits of the magical energy that exists on Earth,’ Gesar added. ‘Be more precise in your formulation!’

‘Yes, I just didn’t have time to finish,’ said Nadya.

She wormed her way out of that neatly!

‘All right. A-minus,’ said Gesar. ‘So what did you want to say?’

‘How can there be a magician who surpasses a Higher Clairvoyant by an order of magnitude? He’s either a Zero-Order Magician, or a . . .’

‘Well, well?’ Gesar encouraged her.

‘Or not a magician at all.’ Nadya suddenly felt embarrassed and snuggled up against her mother. Svetlana put her arm round her shoulders. I caught my daughter’s eye and nodded approvingly.

‘We cannot entirely exclude the existence of another Zero-Order Magician,’ said Gesar. ‘But none of the prerequisites exist.’

‘And that includes any prophecies concerning it,’ remarked Glyba. ‘But Nadya was foretold.’

‘Let’s examine the other possibilities,’ said Gesar. ‘A magician, even a Zero-Order one, is only a magician.’

‘A Mirror?’ Svetlana asked quietly.

There was a tense silence.

A Mirror is bad news. He’s very bad news, because it’s practically impossible to fight against him. A mirror is generated by the Twilight – that is, no one really knows why any particular, ordinary, uninitiated Other with an indeterminate aura, who is inclined equally towards the Light and the Darkness, becomes transformed into a Mirror Magician, and how it happens. But we do know in general why the Mirror appears and what happens after that. The Mirror shows up at a place where the balance between the Light and the Darkness has been seriously disrupted, and then joins the losing side. He eliminates the gap. And in the most direct fashion possible – either by killing magicians or by taking away their power. Eleven years earlier Svetlana had lost most of her power – and we were very lucky that she had been able to restore herself so quickly.

‘It can’t be a Mirror,’ said Gesar, shaking his head. ‘A Mirror Magician only rises up the levels in the course of combat with normal magicians. Have any of our Higher Magicians fought a Mirror?’

‘How about the Dark Ones?’ suggested Mark Emmanuilovich.

‘They only have one Higher Other in their Watch: Zabulon himself.’

‘What about Yury and Nikolai?’ asked Jermenson, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

‘Yury moved to Minsk seven years ago – his career prospects are better there,’ Gesar laughed. ‘And Nikolai is in the reserve, like you. For more than four years now. I don’t think he does anything very much, except go fishing on the Akhtuba . . .’

‘He still writes romance novels, under a female pseudonym,’ Olga put in.

‘Does he?’ asked Glyba, suddenly interested. ‘And what are they like?’

‘Quite readable,’ Olga said eagerly. ‘Especially—’

‘Quiet!’ said Gesar, tapping his finger on the table. The sound was surprisingly loud. He closed his eyes and sat for a few moments without speaking. ‘I’ve asked Zabulon to check on his Higher Ones in the reserve. But I’m assuming that none of them has fought with anyone. And why would a Mirror be killing Dark Ones? With the present balance of power, he should be killing us again!’

‘Then who?’ Jermenson asked, with a shrug. ‘If not a Mirror . . . one of the ancient magicians? There were Zero-Order Magicians among them . . . well . . . close to it, at least . . .’

‘Who and why?’ Gesar asked. ‘Most importantly – why? Why appear in Moscow in secret, do God only knows what to someone who just happens to cross your path . . . No, let’s consider other possibilities!’

‘Not a Mirror, and not a High . . . er, Zero-Order Magician that we don’t know about?’ asked Glyba.

‘What other possibilities can there be?’ said Svetlana, asking her first question. ‘I’m sorry, Boris Ignatievich, my borsch has been left half-cooked on the stove, Nadya was just doing her homework, then you dragged us over here . . . and, as far as I can see, you’re not even sure why!’

Gesar looked at me and said: ‘You have a go, Anton. What frightens you in all this?’

I thought for a minute before starting to answer.

‘A plane . . . a plane that should have crashed, but didn’t. A boy-Prophet who turned up so fortuitously right in front of my eyes. What he said . . . about me in the first instance. A policeman I ran into many years ago and who can now see Others, although he himself isn’t an Other. His partner, whose aura has disappeared and who couldn’t give a damn about anything any more. Some unknown individual, whom the policeman called a “tiger”. The fact that the two policemen described this unknown individual quite differently. The fact that a clairvoyant Higher Magician is unable to foresee events.’

‘But how can all that be interconnected?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said honestly.

‘And what exactly is it that frightens you? Surely not what was said about a “tiger”? This policeman of yours calls us “dogs” and the Dark Ones “wolves”.’

‘What frightens me is the intense concentration of strange elements,’ I said. ‘It all started this morning. Only eight and a half hours ago. There’s so much, and all at once!’

Gesar nodded. He seemed satisfied with what I’d said.

‘That’s right. Too many strange things. It can’t be a coincidence, so there must be a common reason. Can you suggest any possibilities?’

‘You’re just like Dr House, Boris Ignatievich,’ Svetlana said ironically.

‘What?’ asked Gesar – it was one of the rare occasions when I’d seen the boss bewildered. I don’t believe he ever had any interest in the cinema and all he watched on TV was the news and the figure skating, which he found attractive for some reason.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Svetlana. ‘Just this . . . famous doctor. He used to propose crazy theories to his junior colleagues, and then choose the correct one himself.’

Gesar gave Svetlana a rather dubious look. Then he nodded and said: ‘I hope he had more enterprising colleagues than mine. I haven’t heard a single theory so far.’

‘A divine being,’ Jermenson said unexpectedly. ‘No, I’m not talking about God or a Messiah, but perhaps we’re dealing here with a manifestation of some sacral, mystical entity . . .’

‘Retirement’s having a bad effect on you, Mark,’ Gesar said irritably. ‘The only mystical entity in our world is us – the Others. All the rest is human folklore.’

‘Well, some Others don’t think so . . .’ Jermenson muttered, but without any real conviction.

‘So this is Other folklore, then!’ Gesar snapped. ‘Are there any serious theories?’

‘An emanation of primal Power,’ suggested Glyba. ‘The Light or the Darkness . . .’

‘That’s the same “divine entity” again, only in different words,’ said Gesar.

‘But the Light and the Darkness exist,’ said Glyba, with a shrug. ‘When we swear on the Light, it confirms our words.’

Gesar frowned. ‘Sophistry. We don’t know how or why it happens. Do you know? I don’t. Possibly one of the Great Magicians of ancient times created a spell that’s still working now. To suspect the Light and the Darkness of conscious action is—’