Chapter 12 Chapter 1
It dawned on me this morning that spring has indeed arrived.
Just last night, the sky looked different.Dark clouds were floating over the city, and it was about to blow wet wind and rain.All I wanted was to bury myself deeper in the chair, put a good but vulgar tape into the VCR, American movies, take a sip of brandy, and fall asleep like that.
Everything changed in the morning.
It was as if someone had waved a sky-blue handkerchief over the city with the trick of a seasoned magician, sweeping across the streets and squares—as though wiping away the last vestiges of winter.And the brown clumps of snow left in the corners and gutters do not seem to be an oversight of the coming spring, but an essential element of the interior decoration of the city.to remind...
I walked towards the subway with a smile on my face.
Sometimes it's nice to be human.I've been living like this for a week: going to work, not having to climb stairs, dealing with servers that suddenly have some bad habits, installing new office software for the girls in the accounting department, despite the need for this software whatever I still can't see them.In the evenings I went to the theatre, played football, and went to certain little bars and restaurants.Go wherever you want, as long as it is a lively and crowded place.Many people are more interesting than one.
Of course, there was no one in the night watch patrol offices, the old-fashioned four-story building we rented from our subsidiary company.The three older cleaning ladies are also Others.Even the brusque young guards at the gates, whose job it is to fend off thieves and salesmen, are a bit of magic.Even the plumber, the typical Moscow plumber, is a magician... if he wasn't so fond of drinking, he would be a pretty good magician.
However, as luck would have it, the first two floors looked quite ordinary.People who often come and go here are the tax police, human working partners, and underworld elements under our protection... It doesn't matter if they are the umbrella of the underworld forces. It stands to reason that they are controlled by the boss himself, and we small people don't need to know the details.
And the conversations going on here are pretty normal.Topics include politics, taxes, shopping, the weather, other people's affairs and their own.The little girl bad-mouthed the men, and we responded to them on the spot.We'll also discuss office romances, plots against your boss, and the form of bonuses...
Half an hour later, I arrived at the "Eagle" station and walked from the station to the ground.It's noisy and the air smells of car exhaust.After all, it is spring.
Our office is in a not-so-bad part of Moscow, far from the worst, if not compared to the official residence of the Patrol of the Day Watchers.But the Kremlin is not for us in any case: the past has left deep marks on Red Square and ancient brick walls.Maybe sometime in the future they will be rubbed off.But, at the moment, there's no sign of it...well, no.
I walked from the subway station and the office was very close.All the faces around are beautiful, warmed by the sun and spring.What I love about spring is the less agonizing fatigue and fewer trials...
A guard smokes at the entrance.He nodded in a friendly way. It wasn't his job to do an in-depth examination.Besides, the computers in their duty room do not have access to the Internet, and I am directly in charge of whether they can install a few new games other than official information and employee project files.
"Late, Anton," he blurted out.
I looked at my watch suspiciously.
"The boss called everyone into the conference room, and they looked for you."
This is strange, the morning meeting is usually not called me.What happened to my computer?If so, it would drag me out of bed at night.And this is not the first time...
I nodded and quickened my pace.
There is an elevator in the building but it's so dated I'd rather go up four floors.There is also a sentry post on the landing of the third floor, which is more important.Garico was on duty.As I approached, he narrowed his eyes a little and looked through the twilight plane, scanning my bioelectric field and other signatures.After he finished, he smiled kindly and said:
"move."
The door of the conference room was slightly ajar.I looked in: there were about thirty people gathered, basically combat members and analysts.The chief nodded, pacing up and down before the map of Moscow.And Vitaly Markovich, the deputy manager of the commercial department, a very bad magician and a born businessman, said:
"In this way we will be able to balance our current expenditures without having to take special measures in our financial operations. If you support my proposal, we will be able to slightly increase the allowances of some staff, first of all, of course, the allowances of combatants, temporarily incapacitated There will also be increases in pensions for staff and families of deceased staff. We can…”
It's ridiculous that the magician who can turn lead into gold, coal mines into diamonds, and cut paper into rattling banknotes needs to talk about money.But in fact, there are two reasons for doing so.First of all—this would give a job to others whose skills are too small to survive.Secondly, the risk of breaking the balance of good and evil forces is relatively small.
Boris Ignatievich nodded when he saw me, and said:
"Thank you, Vitaly. I think the matter is clear and there is no complaint about your conduct. Shall we vote? Thank you. Now that we are all here..."
Under the attentive gaze of the boss, I quietly walked to the chair and sat down.
"Now for the main question."
Semyon, who was standing next to me, lowered his head and whispered:
"The main problem—paying the party dues for March..."
I couldn't help but smile slightly.Sometimes Boris Ignatievich was indeed seen as an old Communist.I feel more comfortable doing this than a medieval inquisitor or a retired general would, but I may be wrong.
"Main problem—I had a protest from the Day Watchers patrol two hours ago," said the chief.
I didn't understand his words right away.Day Watch and Night Watch patrols often block each other's way.Protests occur every week, sometimes everything is resolved in the regional branch, sometimes in the Bern court...
It became clear to me later that this could not be a general protest.It is impossible to convene an enlarged meeting of the inspection team to discuss a general protest.
"The essence of the protest," the boss touched the bridge of his nose, "the essence of the protest is this... This morning a woman from the dark forces was killed in the Stoleshnik Alley area. This is the brief record of the incident. "
Two printed sheets were thrown on my lap.Everyone else got the same gift.I browsed the material:
"Galina Rogova, twenty-four years old... Inspired at seven years old, the rest of the family is not other. Educated under the protection of dark forces... Her teacher - Anna Chernogoro Baby, a fourth-level magician...Galina was determined to be a shapeshifter when she was eight years old. Intermediate level..."
Frowning, I browsed through the files.Although the frown is basically for no reason.Rogova is from the Dark Forces, but not with the Sun Watch Patrol.She abides by the principles of the peace treaty.Do not hunt humans.Never had.She even got a license twice, once as an adult and once after marriage, but she didn't use either.With the help of mana, she achieved a high status in the "Warm House" construction group, and she married the deputy manager.There was one child, a boy... who was not found to have superpowers.A few times she used the other's powers in self-defense, once she killed an attacker, and even this time she didn't let herself degenerate into cannibalism...
"It would be nice to have more such shapeshifters, right?" Semyon asked.He turned the page and laughed.Out of curiosity, I took a look at the end of the document.
That's right.Inspection records.Cuts in blouses and coats... presumably by sharp daggers.The shapeshifter must not have been beaten to death by an ordinary iron rod that had been enchanted... Why was Semyon surprised?
I see!
No obvious wounds were found on the body.Not at all.The cause of death was the complete loss of vitality.
"Unfortunately," Semyon said, "I remember that during the civil war, I was sent to capture a shapeshifter who would transform into a tiger. And that bastard actually worked in the Cheka, and not in the end..."
"Is everyone familiar with the material?" asked the boss.
"Can I ask a question?" A slender hand was raised from another corner of the conference room.Almost everyone laughed.
"Excuse me, Yulia." The boss nodded.
The young inspector stood up, hesitantly combed his hair.A nice girl, if a bit childish, but she was hired in the analysis department for no reason.
"Boris Ignatievich, as I recall, was done with a second-degree intervention, perhaps a first-degree?"
"Probably secondary," said the chief.
"That is to say, you can do this..." Yulia hesitated and fell silent for a moment. "And Semyon... Ilya... or Garico. Is that right?"
"It's impossible for Garico," said the chief. "Ilya and Semyon, probably."
Semyon muttered something, as if he did not like flattery.
"It's also possible that our colleagues from other places killed people on the way to Moscow." Yulia said while thinking, "But you must know that it is impossible for a magician with such power to appear in the city without being noticed. They are all in the hands of the Sun Watchers. The conclusion then is to examine these three people. If they all have alibi, there is no claim on us, right?"
"Yulia," the boss nodded, "no one will make such demands on us. The problem is that there is a light magician operating in Moscow. He has not registered and is not familiar with the peace agreement."
This is very important...
"Well, well," said Ilya, "I'm sorry, Boris Ignatievich."
"It's okay." The boss nodded. "We'll get to the heart of the matter right away. Guys, we let someone go. We didn't hear it, we ignored it. A powerful magician of light is wandering in Moscow. He doesn't understand anything—but keeps Kill the other of the dark forces."
"Keep killing?" someone in the conference room asked.
"Yes. I checked the files. There were records of similar incidents in the spring and autumn of three years ago, and in the autumn of two years ago. No flesh was injured each time, only the clothes were broken. They investigated, but found nothing. They seem to attribute the death of one of their own to accidental factors... Now someone from the dark forces will be punished."
"What about the power of light?"
"same."
Xie Miao coughed, then whispered:
"Strange periodicity, Boris..."
"I think, boys, we don't know the truth of the whole thing. Whoever this magician is, he often kills others who are not very powerful, and obviously these others are not disguised. It is obvious that this The victims of the series are the otherness of dark forces that have been inspired or unknown. So I suggest that..."
The boss looked around the meeting room.
"Analytical department - gathering criminal intelligence, looking for similar situations. Note that they may not be closed as murders, but mostly as unexplained deaths. Check the results of the autopsy, ask the mortuary staff. . . . Think about where you can find the information. The research department... send two or three staff members to the Sun Watch patrol to examine the corpse. You should find out how he killed the other of the dark forces. Yes , by the way, we call him Savage. Combat Branch .
"We've been looking for 'someone'," Igor muttered discontentedly. "Boris Ignatievich, we can't find a powerful magician! Impossible!"
"Maybe he hasn't been stimulated before," the boss said decisively, "The manifestation of potential is periodic..."
"Every spring and autumn, any madman..."
"Yes, Igor, exactly. Every spring and autumn. And now, right after the murder, there should be a trace of magic on him. Chances are, not great, but there is. Work hard."
"Boris, what's the purpose?" Semyon asked curiously.
Some people had started to stand up, but stopped at this moment.
"The purpose is to find the Wildling before the dark ones. Protect him, train him, draw him to our side. As usual."
"Everything is clear." Semyon stood up.
"Anton and Olga, I ask you to stay," said the boss, and went to the window.
The team members who left the conference room looked at me curiously, even a little jealously.Special missions always make sense.I looked around the conference room and saw Olga, and I grinned and she smiled back.
She could not at all remind one now of the barefoot, dirty girl in the kitchen drinking the brandy I gave her in winter.Now her hairstyle is very beautiful, her complexion is healthy and rosy, and her eyes... no, I can't say that she is full of confidence, but she already shows a certain style and pride.
She had her punishment revoked.Although not all.
"Anton, I don't like what's happening," said the boss without turning around.
Olga shrugged her shoulders and nodded—an answer.
"Boris Ignatievich, please say that again?"
"I don't like the protests of the Day Watchers."
"me too."
"You don't understand. I worry about everything else—and... Olga, at least you can guess what's going on?"
"The strange thing is that the Day Watcher patrol team failed to find the murderer for several years."
"Yes. Do you remember Krakow?"
"Sorry for not remembering. Do you think we are under attack?"
"It cannot be ruled out..." Boris moved away from the window. "Anton, can you allow the situation to develop like this?"
"I don't quite get it," I said lazily.
"Anton, what if there is really this wild man in the city, a killer who walks alone. He has not been stimulated. Sometimes his ability will be stimulated... He finds a person of the dark power and kills him Dead. Will the Sun Watch patrol find him? Well, believe me... they can. Then they will ask the question, why didn't we catch this killer, didn't we find him? You know, the dark side is dead!"
"It's the little people who died." I speculated.
"Yes, to sacrifice pawns—traditionally..." the chief, noticing my gaze, said hesitantly, "in the tradition of the Night's Watch."
"Traditionally we patrol on both sides," I retaliated.
"Both of us," repeated the chief wearily. "You reminded me... let's think about what a similar incident would lead to. Prosecuting the Night's Watch for negligence? It's not a big deal. Our job is to monitor the activities of the dark forces, to monitor Familiar observance of the peace treaty, not the hunt for mysterious maniacs. The Sun Watch patrols themselves are at fault for this..."
"That is to say, they have a specific target to attack this time, right?"
"Well done, Anton. Do you remember what Yulia just said? There are very few of us who can do something like that. It can be proven. If the Day Watchers decide to accuse someone of breach of peace, It is said that a high-level other who is familiar with the content of the peace treaty privately judges and punishes the dark forces."
"But that's easy to overturn. Just find the wildlings..."
"What if the dark forces find him first? Don't they mention it?"
"Isn't there evidence of alibi?"
"What if the murder occurred at a time when there was no alibi?"
"The court will make full inquiries." I said gloomily, "Of course, it's not a good thing to get people's memories out of their heads..."
"Mighty magician, these murders are done by a powerful magician, he can even hide from the court. Can't cheat, but can hide. And, Anton, because the dark forces will also participate in the court trial, so he has to do it, Otherwise a lot of the information in his head would fall into the enemy's hands. And if the magician evades interrogation—then he would be found guilty. It would have consequences, both for him and for the patrol."
"It's not a good thing, Boris Ignatievich," I admitted, "it's not good. It's almost like what you described to me in your dream that winter. A child with extraordinary otherness, a There will be a violent outburst that will overturn the entire Moscow together with the dust..."
"I understand. But I didn't lie to you, Anton."
"What do I need to do?" I asked bluntly. "You know, that's not my specialty. Helping the analyst do the analysis?—and we could get there otherwise."
"Anton, I want you to count which of us are suspects. Who has an alibi and who doesn't in all known incidents."
The boss put his hand in his jacket pocket, took out a DVD and said:
"Here...here are all the archives for three years. They belong to four people, including me."
I swallowed and took the CD.
"The password is removed. But you understand that no one should see this. You have no right to copy these documents. Add calculations and diagrams to the password...don't be stingy with the length of the password."
"If only I had an assistant," I begged without hesitation.I looked at Olga.What a sidekick she was, actually: All she knew about computers was getting into Pagan, Huxon, and whatnot to fight.
"My database requires you to search it yourself," the boss said after a pause. "You can send Anatolia to do other things. OK?"
"Then what is my mission?" Olga asked.
"You do the same thing, but in individual inquiries. You start with me. Then the remaining three."
"Okay, Boris."
"Let's go, Anton." The boss nodded. "Now do it. Send my girls to do the rest, and they will do it well."
"Perhaps I should rummage through the database for a while?" I asked. "In case someone doesn't have an alibi... do you need to make arrangements?"
The head shook his head and said:
"No, you didn't get it. I don't want forged documents. I want to prove that none of us had anything to do with these murders."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Because nothing is impossible in this world. Anton, all the good thing about our work is that I can give you this kind of task, and you can complete it. Don't worry about status."
Something unsettled me.But I nodded and headed for the door, clutching the precious disc in my hand.It was only at the last moment that I had a question, so I turned around and asked:
"Boris Ignatievich..."
The boss and Olga quickly avoided each other.
"Boris Ignatievich, here are the files of four people?"
"right."
"Your, Ilya's, Semyon's..."
"And yours, Anton."
"Why?" I asked stupidly.
"When the confrontation happened on the roof, you stayed in the second layer of the twilight world for three minutes. Anton... this is a third-level force."
"Impossible." I just said.
"Is such that."
"You always say, Boris Ignatievich, that I am a magician of the middle class!"
"Maybe it's because I need a good programmer more than another good combat team member."
I'd be proud any other time.Although it is mixed with grievances, I will be proud after all.You must know that I always think that the fourth-level magic is the limit I can achieve, and I can't reach it immediately.But now the overriding thing is fear—nasty, haunting, repulsive fear.Five years as an undisturbed staff officer in the Patrol Corps would have given me no fear of anything: power, the underworld, disease...
"What happened in this case was secondary interference..."
"The boundaries are not very clear, Anton. And your ability may be even greater."
"However, we have more than ten third-level magicians. Why am I among the suspects?"
"Because you stabbed Zaburon himself. You grabbed the head of the Moscow Watchmen Patrol by the tail. He was perfectly capable of setting a trap for Anton Gorodetsky, or rather, readjusting the reserve old trap."
I swallowed.He left without asking any more questions.
The office of the analysis department is also on the fourth floor, but on the other side.I hurried down the corridor, nodding to the oncoming person indifferently.I hold the CD tighter than an enthusiastic lad holds his lover's hand.
The boss doesn't lie, does he?
Maybe this is also a blow to me?
Probably, he wouldn't lie.I asked questions straight to the point and got straight answers.Of course, as the years go by, even the most aboveboard magician can become a bit hypocritical and learn to play tricks or improvise with words.But the consequences of outright lying were too serious even for Boris Ignatievich.
The front room is equipped with an electronic inspection system.I know that all magicians are dismissive of mechanical technology. Once Semyon showed me how to easily fool the voice discriminator and retinal scanner.But I still bought these expensive things, even if they don't work on others, I want to know about these equipment, maybe one day the FSB or the Mafia guys will decide to use these things to spy on us.
"One, two, three, four, five..." I muttered into the microphone, looking into the camera obscura.The electronics specialist considered for a few seconds before a green passable light came on the door.
The first room was empty.The server fans were humming, and the air conditioner on the wall was blowing.It was hot though.Spring has just begun...
I did not go to the system operation room, but immediately entered my office.Oh, not quite my own.Torik, my lieutenant is there too.Also, he often stayed overnight, sleeping on an old leather sofa.
Now he sat at his desk, looking thoughtfully at an old motherboard.
"Hello." I greeted and sat down on the sofa.The disc scratched my fingers.
"It's broken," Torik said sadly.
"Then throw it away."
"I'll think about it again, is there any other way..." Torik is characterized by a love of storage, which is a habit developed by working in the Finance and Budget Research Institute for many years.We had no problems financially, but he was careful to store all the old stuff that no one needed. "No, it's unimaginable. I tapped it for half an hour, but it didn't respond..."
"Oh, it's too old, what can you do with it? Those computers in the accounting department are relatively new."
"It would be great if it was given to someone... The memory can still be removed..."
"Torik, we have an urgent mission," I said.
"Oh?"
"Hmm. Here..." I held up the disc. "Here are the files... the complete files of the four patrol officers. Including the chief."
Torik opened the desk drawer, flung the motherboard in, and looked at the platters.
"That's the job. I'm going to check the other three. You check the fourth... check mine."
"Check what?"
"Here." I pulled out an open letter. "It's possible that one of the suspects has been murdering the Darkbringer from time to time. Unsanctioned murders. All known incidents are recorded here. We must rule that out, or..."
"Did you really kill them?" Torik asked with interest, "Forgive my abruptness..."
"No. But don't trust me. Let's work."
I didn't even look at my own information, I just copied all the 800 megabytes of data into Torik's computer and took the CD away.
"If you come across something interesting, do you want to tell it to you?" Torik asked.I squinted and saw that he was browsing the files while tugging his left ear and clicking the mouse rhythmically.
"up to you."
"it is good."
I started looking at the archives, including the chief's profile.It started with the table of contents—a general report on the archive documents.Every line I read makes me sweat.
Of course, the chief's real name and origin were not even listed in this document, and no other of his level would document such facts at all.But I still discover something every second.For example, the age of the boss is older than I guessed, at least a century and a half older.And this shows that he personally participated in the signing of the peace treaty between light and darkness.Surprisingly, all surviving magicians who participated in the signing of the peace treaty have been in major leadership positions, instead of serving as boring and boring district officials.
In addition, I learned some of the names the Chief had used in the history of the Patrol, and where he was born.Everyone has pondered over this point, made bets, and presented "indisputable" evidence.But for some reason it never occurred to anyone that Boris Ignatievich was a Tibetan.
I can already guess whose teacher he is, I really didn't even dare to think about it before!
The chief has been working in Europe since the fifteenth century.I understood from indirect information that the reason for his sudden change of residence was a woman.I even guessed what kind of woman that was.
... After I closed the main window, I looked at Torik.He's watching video clips, and of course my resume isn't as impressive as the boss's.I took a closer look at the little moving picture - blushing.
"You had no apparent alibi during the first incident," Torik said without turning his head.
"Listen..." I said helplessly.
"Okay, forget it. It's nothing. I'm doing a quick search now so I can look it up overnight..."
I imagined what the film would look like in a quick run, so I turned away.No, although I know that the leader is supervising his employees, especially the young ones, I didn't expect to be so shameless!
"There will be no apparent alibi," I said. "Now I'll get dressed and go out."
"I saw it," Torik said.
"I was away for almost an hour and a half. From when I went looking for champagne ... to when I found it, and then I was out sobering up and thinking about going back."
"Never mind," Torik said, "better watch the boss's private life."
After working for half an hour, I understood that Torik was right.If I have reason to blame the observers for their shamelessness, Boris Ignatievich has no less reason to complain than I do.
"The boss has an alibi," I said. "It goes without saying that in two cases there were four witnesses. In another case almost the entire patrol was a witness."
"Is it the operation to capture that crazy vampire?"
"yes."
"Even in that case you had no alibi. You were only called in the early hours of the morning, close to the time of the murder. There are pictures of you walking into the office, but that's about it."
"that is……"
"It's theoretically possible that you killed someone from the Dark Forces. Quite possible. Besides, I'm sorry, Anton, but every murder happens when you're very emotional. It's like you can't help yourself."
"I didn't do that."
"I believe. What shall I do with this document?"
"Delete it."
Torik thought for a moment.
"I don't have anything of value here. I'm going to format the system. It's long overdue to defrag the disk."
"Thank you," I closed the boss's profile, "I'll take care of the rest myself."
"I understand." Torik suppressed the computer's impartial anger, and the latter ran obediently and automatically.
"Go to the girls," I suggested, "and put on a serious face. You know they're playing tarot there, I believe."
"That's right," Torik replied lightly, "when are you free?"
"About two hours."
"I gonna go see."
He left and went to our "little girls", two young programmers, generally speaking, they mainly do the administrative work of the public service of the patrol team.And I keep working.Now it's Chase Miao's turn.
Two and a half hours later I step away from the computer, rub the back of my head with the palm of my hand—the back of your head always feels numb after staring at the monitor for a long time—and turn on the coffee maker.
Neither the boss, Ilya, nor Semyon seemed like the kind of person who would crazily murder the Dark Emissary.Everyone has an alibi -- and often does things with absolute sanity.For example, during the whole night of the murder, Semyon actually spent with the leader of the patrol team of the watchmen.Ilya went on a business trip to Sakhalin - something very troublesome happened there and needed assistance from the center...
Only I am suspicious.
It's not that I don't trust Torik, but I checked my own profile again.It all came together and there was not a single alibi.
The coffee tasted bad, sour, obviously the filter hadn't been changed in ages.I swallowed the scalding cloudy drink, looked at the screen, and pulled out my phone to call my boss.
"Speak, Anton."
He knows who is calling him.
"Boris Ignatievich, there is but one man to suspect."
"Who is that?"
The voice was dry and serious, but, for some reason, it seemed to me that the boss was sitting half naked on the leather sofa, holding a glass of champagne in one hand and Olga's in the other, and he was holding his shoulders tightly. Clamp the earpiece tightly, or hold it against your ear...
"Ah..." The boss stopped my thoughts, "People with foresight are disgusting, who is suspected?"
"I."
"clear."
"You know that," I said.
"Why do you say that?"
"There's no need for me to organize the files. You'd better do it yourself. So you want me to be convinced that I'm in danger."
"Even so." The boss sighed. "What should you do, Anton?"
"Get ready to go to jail."
"Come to my office, in... well... in ten minutes."
"Okay." I turned off the phone.
I'll go to the girls first.Torik is still there, and they're still working hard.
Actually the Patrol didn't need two bum programmers at all.They have no right to access confidential documents, all things have to be done by us.But where else could two very, very bad witches go?They just agree to live the lives of ordinary people... No, what they want is a romantic atmosphere, and they want to work in the patrol team... This is the position specially set up for them.
Their main job is wasting time, surfing the Internet and playing games from time to time - and the most popular ones are probably all kinds of card tricks.
Torik sits at a spare computer—we have no technical problems.Yulia knelt down beside him, vigorously moving the mouse on a mat.
"Is this what you call computer literacy?" I asked, watching the monster staring at the screen.
"Nothing can improve the skill of using the mouse as quickly as computer games." Torik said innocently.
"Then..." I don't know how to answer.
I haven't played this type of game in a long time, like most of the patrol team staff.Only when you haven't seen the devil with your own eyes, or after you've lived for a hundred or two hundred years, and seeing everything as normal as Olga, will you think it's interesting to kill a virtual monster.
"Torik, I probably won't be going back today." I said.
"Yeah." He nodded in no surprise.We all do not have much foresight, but we can feel it at once for similar little things.
"Galia, Lena, goodbye," I nodded to the girls.Galia chirped with a polite remark, showing a look of enthusiasm for work.Lianna asked:
"Can I leave sooner?"
"certainly."
We don't lie to our own people.If Lianna asked to leave early, it meant that she really had something to leave.We don't cheat, we just play tricks and pretend to be confused every now and then...
The chief's desk was in disarray.Pens, exercise books, papers, dismantled bulletins, magic crystals that get tarnished after being used too much.
But the ugliest of all was a burning alcohol lamp, above which white powder was boiling in a cauldron.The boss stirred it thoughtfully with the nib of an expensive parker, obviously waiting to see what would happen.The powder was unresponsive to heat and stirring.
"Here." I put the disc in front of the boss.
"What shall we do?" asked Boris Ignatievich without raising his eyes.He had no coat on, his shirt was wrinkled and his tie was askew.
I stole a sideways glance at the sofa.奥莉加不在办公室里，但是一只装过香槟酒的瓶子和两只高脚杯放在地板上。
“我不知道。我没有谋杀黑暗使者……那些黑暗使者。您是知道的。”
"I know."
“但是我无法证明这一点。”
“依我推测，我们有两三天的时间，”头儿说。“然后守日人巡查队就会起诉你。”
“安排一场假的不在现场的证据——这并不复杂。”
“那你同意这么干吗？”鲍利斯·伊格纳季耶维奇好奇地问道。
“当然不。我可以提一个问题吗？”
"Can."
“这些材料是从哪来的？这些照片和录像带是从哪来的？”
头儿沉默了片刻。
“我也这么想过。你不是也看了我的资料了吗，安东？给我留的情面不比你多吧？”
“不多，所以我才有问题要问。为什么您允许收集这种情报？”
“这个我无法禁止。宗教法庭在实行监督。”
可笑的问题：“宗教法庭确实存在吗？”我能管住我的舌头，然而，我的脸大概已经把这想法表现得很明显了。
头儿看了我一会儿，好像在等待我的问题，然后他继续说：
“记住，安东。从现在开始你不应该一个人呆着。只有上厕所你可以单独去，其他时间必须有两三个证人在旁边。只有一点可以指望，那就是再发生一桩谋杀案。”
“要是真的想整我，那么在我有不在现场的证据的时候，就不会发生谋杀。”
“而你总会有没这种证据的时候。”头儿冷笑了一下，“别以为我是个老傻瓜。”
我点点头，还是不能确信我彻底明白了。
“奥莉加……”
墙上的门开了，我一直以为这是一个柜门。奥莉加微笑着走了进来，边走边整理头发。牛仔裤和女式衬衫把她的身子裹得特别紧，像平时热水淋浴之后那样。我看见她身后是个巨大的带冲浪的浴缸。一扇与整面墙壁一样大的全景式玻璃窗——大概是单面透明的。
“奥莉加，你能行吗？”头儿关心地问。他指的是他们已经交谈过的事。
“我一个人？不行。”
“我指的是别的。”
"No problem at all."
“你们背对背站着。”头儿吩咐。
我没想争辩。尽管连心口都觉得被吸空了——我明白发生了很严重的事。
“你们两个都睁开眼吧。”鲍利斯·伊格纳季耶维奇要求说。
我睁开眼睛，感到身体软弱无力。奥莉加的后背热乎乎的，而且湿透了衬衫。一种奇怪的感觉：站着与一个女人肌肤相触，她刚刚做爱了……但不是与你做的。
不，我对她没有一点点爱意。或许是因为我见过她非人的外形，或许是因为我们很快转变成朋友和搭档的关系。或许是因为我们的出生相隔几个世纪：当你在对方的眼里看得到世纪的尘埃时，她那年轻的身体又有何意义？我们只能成为朋友，没有再进一步。
但是和一个身体还留着爱抚的女人站在一起，紧靠在她身上，心里有一种特别的感受……
“开始……”头儿说，或许过于刺耳。他说了几句千年前响彻世界上空的我听不懂的、古老的话。
flight.
这真的是飞行——好像大地从脚下消失了，好像身体失去了重量。飘飘欲仙的性高潮，直接注入血液中的一部分LSD，插入皮质下的兴奋中枢的电极……
我心中充盈着一股毫无来由的喜悦，它是如此的强烈和纯洁，以至于世界在它面前也黯然失色了。我本来是要倒下去的，但从头儿那双举起的手里喷射出来的一股力量扶住了我——还有奥莉加，一些无形的线迫使我们弯下身子，并相互紧贴在一起。
而后来我的思路混乱了。
“你可得原谅呀，安东，”鲍利斯·伊格纳季耶维奇说，“我们没有时间犹豫和解释了。”
我默不作声。像是被惊呆了似的，沉默着坐在地板上，望着自己的手，望着戴着两枚银戒指的纤细的手指，望着脚——脚上面又长又匀称的双腿，它们沐浴后还是潮湿的，并且被一条过紧的牛仔裤紧裹着，穿着一双小巧的浅蓝色旅游鞋的双脚。
“这是暂时的。”头儿说。
“什么……”我想骂人，我全身抽搐，从地板上爬起来，但面对自己最初的声音我沉默了。一个低沉的、柔和的女人的声音。
“安东，镇静。”站在旁边的一个年轻男人伸出手，帮我站起身来。
大概没有他我会摔倒。重心完全变化了。我个子变矮了，见到的世界完全是另一种样子……
“奥莉加呢？”我看着自己过去的脸问道。我的搭档点了点头，现在她还是我身躯里的居住者。我慌张地看着她……看着自己的……脸，我发现早晨我马马虎虎地刮过脸。还有我的额头上有个小小的脓包，像一个名副其实的正值青春年华的半大小伙子。
“安东，放心吧。我也是第一次变性。”
不知为什么我相信了她。别看她年龄这么大，奥莉加可能从来也没有遇到过如此微妙的情况。
“习惯吗？”头儿问。
我还是看看自己，时而把手举到脸上，时而看看玻璃架上的影子。
“走吧，”奥莉加抓住我的手。“鲍利斯，等等……”她的动作是那么不自信，就像我的一样。甚至比我更不自信。“光明和黑暗，就像你们男人，走吧！”她突然大声说。
这时我意识到已经发生的事情的讽刺性，便哈哈大笑起来。我作为黑暗力量设计针对的对象被藏起来了！藏进了女人的身体！藏进了头儿恋人的身体里，这个恋人古老得就像巴黎圣母院！
奥莉加直接把我推进浴室——我不由得为自己的力量而高兴——她朝浴缸弯下腰。事先就精心安装在嫩粉红色瓷砖上的淋浴器龙头里放出一股冷水，流在我脸上。
我扑哧扑哧地挣脱了她的手。我好不容易才克制住想给奥莉加——也许可以说是给自己本人——一记耳光的想法。看来，别人身体的运动技能开始恢复过来了。
“我没有癔病，”我凶狠地说，“这确实可笑。”
“真的吗？”奥莉加眯缝起眼睛，看看我。难道这真的是我的目光吗？是我努力表达一种与怀疑混杂在一起的善意时流露出的目光？
"It's absolutely true."
“那么你看看自己。”
我走到镜子前，这镜子是那么的大，那么的豪华，就像这间秘密的浴室里的一切东西一样，我目不转睛地望着自己。
结果是奇怪的。看清楚自己的新面貌后，我完全放下心来。我若是处在另一个躯体，一个男人的躯体里的话，大概心里的震荡会更大。而现在这样——除了有一种开始假面舞会的感觉外，就什么也不觉得了。
“你没有对我实施干涉吧？”我问，“你或者头儿？”
"No."
“就是说，我的意志还挺坚强。”
“你的口红掉了，”奥莉加说。然后嘻笑起来。“你会涂口红吗？”
“你傻了？当然不会。”
“我教你。一种简单的技能。你还是很走运的，安东。”
“走运什么？”
“若迟一个星期——那就不得不教你使用卫生巾了。”
“像任何一个看电视的正常男人一样，我会做这件事。先在卫生巾上浇刺眼的蓝色液体，然后用力地把它紧攥在手心里就是了嘛。”
Notes:
Notes: