Metro 2034

CHAPTER 14 What Else?

What made a human to a human? More than a million years he journeys though the world. The magical transformation, which let this intelligent animal become something totally new, had only happened in the last ten thousand years. You just had to think: 99 percent of his history he spent cowering in caves and chewing on raw meat, unable to warmth himself, develop tools or even weapons and he couldn’t even really talk. Even his feelings weren’t that far from apes or wolves: Hunger, fear, companionship, pleasure…

How had humanity learned to build in just a few centuries? To change its surrounding matter and to create new?

Why had they started to paint all of a sudden and how had they discovered music all of a sudden? How could they bent the earth to their will and change it according to their needs? What was it that had made this animal to something special in the last ten thousand years? Fire? It gave humans the ability to tame light and warmth and carry it into uninhabitable cold regions. But what changed that? Good, it made it possible for humans to extend their reach. But rats had colonized the entire planet without fire. No it wasn’t fire, well not just fire, there the musician had been right. There had to be something else… But what?

Language? That was a difference to any other animals without a doubt. When rough thoughts were polished to brilliants of words they had finally turned into the common, currency. At the same time it wasn’t just so much about expressing yourself, not really about what was happening in your head but more about the ability to order the instable, like molten iron flowing pictures into a solid form. To retain a clear and sober mind and to pass on orders and knowledge accurately. So also about the ability to organize, to conquer, to raise armies and form states.

But ants didn’t need any words. On a for a human unnoticeable level they lived in complex hierarchies, shared information and orders with high accuracy, agitated thousands of fearless legions with iron discipline to merciless wars.

Or was it letters? Without them would we have been able to safe our knowledge? Those bricks that made up the to the sky rushing tower of Babylon of human civilization?

Without them all wisdom that Humanity had gathered, would flow apart like unbaked clay and the tower would fall down under its own weight. Turning into dust.

Without letters every generation had to build the tower again, would work all their life in the ruins of their clay huts and finally die, without even having constructed a single floor. First letters and then writing made it possible for humanity to transport the gathered knowledge out of their small heads and store it just like it was for their decedents. So it was no longer their fate to discover the discovered over and over again and they were able to built something of their own on the stable fundament that had been built by their ancestors.

Was that all?

If wolves could write, would their civilization be similar to the one of humanity? Would they even have a civilization? A full wolf that was no longer hungry got tired, snuggled with its kind until it’s growling stomach drove it further. A full human gets a strange feeling on the other hand: He gets melancholic. The unbelievable, unexplained tend that gets him to look at the stars for hours, paint on the wall of his cave with ochre, to decorate the front of his warship with a carved statue, building stone colossuses over centuries of hard labor instead of strengthening the wall of his fortress and work his whole life on the perfection of his poetic masterpiece instead of learning how to wield a sword.

It was the tendency which brought a former train operator helper to devote the few years he still had to lecture and search and to try and write something down…

Something special…. To free him of the longing the common and poor people listen to the skilled violist, kings had kept own troubadours and painters and an underground born girl looked at the package of a painted teabag. It is an obscure and powerful calling, that is even able to overshadow the voice of hunger. And only humans can hear.

It is not just the calling that goes past the spectrum of animals and gives a human the ability to dream and hope for courage. Love and mercy, two emotion which humans think to be such a special ability. They weren’t the first to find it. Even a dog is able to love and feel mercy: Is its master sick, it doesn’t stray from his side and whimpers. Even it can long for the day and is able to see the reason of life of another creature: Some dogs have been ready to die as well after the death of their master. Only so that they could stay with them.

But a dog can’t dream.

Then isn’t there the longing for something beautiful and the ability to value it? This surprising ability to enjoy a composition of colors, arrays of sound, broken lines and elegant constructed sentences?

To get the sweet and at the same time hurting sound of their soul, which grips your heart, even if it is sick and scarred and make it pure again?

Maybe. But not just that.

To sound over shots and the desperate screams of imprisoned naked humans, some humans have played wonderful operas from Wagner on full volume. And that wasn’t a contradiction: One underlined the other.

What else?

Even when humanity survives this hell as a biological kind, is it going to keep that fragile and almost unnoticeable but without a doubt real part of its nature? Is it going to protect that special spark that had brought the hungry animal over ten thousands of years to a creature of order? To a creature who was tortured more by the hunger of the soul then the hunger of the body?. A stumbling creature, always torn from one side to the other, between spiritual greatness and lowness. Between for a predator forbidden mercy and unforgivable cruelty which seemed to have come out of the soulless world of insects?

A creature that built wonderful castles and made unimaginable paintings. Whose ability to create beautiful things could measure up with the creator itself and at the same time create gas chambers and nuclear weapons to destroy and annihilate the created and exterminate his own kind. A creature that built sand castles with much passion so that it could destroy them one day when it felt like it. A creature that knew no limits, that was fearful and cooking of hate, unable to satisfy its hunger but not trying to do anything but that in its entire life. A human…

Is that spark going to stay in it?

Or is it going to disappear in the past, like a short beat on the diagram of history? Is humanity going to be thrown back after this strange event? It had become timeless routine for countless of generation to have their eyes fixed onto the ground. Will the ten, hundredth, five hundredth years going to pass on them without extinguishing the spark?

What else?

“Is it true?”

“What?” Leonid was smiling at her.

“That with the emerald city? The ark? That there is such a place in the metro?” Sasha’s voice sounded like she was sunken in thoughts while she was looking at her feet.

“There’re rumors.”

“I would like to see it… You know, when I was walking around up there it had pity on humanity.

Only because of one mistake it won’t ever be like back then. But it is so beautiful… I think at least it is.”

“Because of one mistake? No that wasn’t just one. To destroy the entire world, to kill six milliards of people, can you even call that a mistake?”

“Still. Don’t you and I have earned their forgiveness? Everybody deserves a second chance, to change and try again and again and even if it’s the last time.” Sasha turned silent for a while and then she said: “I would like to see how it looks like in reality. Back then I didn’t care. Back then I was just afraid and everything was so ugly up there. But it seems that I had just gone up at the wrong place. How stupid… The city up there is like from another life before mine. It has no future. Only memories and even those are strange to me. Just ghosts. I’ve realized something important when I was up there you know…” She was searching for the right words.

“Hope is like blood in your veins. As long as it flows you’re alive. I want to keep hoping.”

“What do you want in the emerald city?” Asked Leonid.

“I want to see how life was back then. You’ve said it yourself. There the people are probably totally different. They haven’t forgotten yesterday and they will surely have a tomorrow. So they have to be totally different, totally…”

They hastily walked along the Dobryninskaya. The guards still didn’t leave them out of their eyes.

Homer had gathered all his courage and went to speak with the commander of the station. He had been gone for a while now and there was no trace of Hunter.

Then at the marble passageway of the Dobryninskaya Sasha realized something strange: The big arcs through which you could get to the tracks changed into smaller ones.

Always a big arc and a small arc, a bigger one and a smaller one. Like a man and a woman who were holding hands. A man and a woman, a man and a woman… Suddenly she felt the need for the broad and strong hand of a man. To put her hand into his.

“Even here you can start a new life.” Said Leonid and winked with his eyes into her direction.

“Sometimes you just have to go somewhere else and search… Sometimes it is enough to look around.”

“And what am I seeing?”

“Me.”

“I’ve already seen you. Already heard you play too.” Finally Sasha smiled as well “I like your music very much. Like all. Don’t you need the bullets? You’ve given so many away to get us through…”

“I only need enough for food. I always have enough. To play for money is stupid.”

“Then why are you playing?”

“Because of the music.” He laughed. “Because of the people. But not to just for them. Because of what music does to the people.”

“What are you doing to the people?”

“Whatever I want.” Now he was serious again.

“I got one for love and another for tears.”

Sasha gave him a distrusting look. “And the one that you’ve played the last time? The one that doesn’t have a name? What does it create?”

“That one?” He whistled the song. “Nothing. That one just takes away the pain.”

“Hey old man!”

Homer closed his book and slid from one side of the uncomfortable bench to the other. The officer on duty towered over a small desk that was almost completely covered with three old black telephoned that were missing the dials. On one of the apparatuses a small red lamp was flashing.

“Andrey Andreyevitsch is ready. You got two minutes, so don’t doddle but get straight to the point.”

Homer sighed. “Two minutes aren’t enough.”

The officer on duty shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve warned you.”

Even five minutes wouldn’t be enough, Homer didn’t know where to start and where to end. Nor did he know for what he should ask or plead. Except for the boss of the Dobryninskaya there was nobody to who he could turn anymore.

Andrey Andreyevitsch was an of malice dripping fat man with an open uniform and didn’t listen to the old man for long.

“Are you crazy? This station is on alert, eight of my men are dead and you come here with your epidemic! There’s none! Stop, you’ve stolen enough of my time! You leave now or…”

Like a whale that jumped out of the water the commander of the station raised up his body and the desk almost fell to the ground. The officer on duty looked into the room trough the door.

Homer rose as confused from the hard visitor’s chair.

“I’m going. But why did you order men to the Serpuchovskaya?”

“What’s it to you?”

“They say at the station…”

“What, what? That’s enough. Spreading panic…

Pavel, into the ape cage with him!”

Another moment later Homer was being dragged out of the room. The officer dragged the struggling old man into a narrow corridor while telling him to calm him down and hit him right in the face.

Homers respirator flew away. He tried to hold his breath but he got another punch into the stomach so that he started to cough cramped.

The whale appeared on the doorstep of his office.

He filled the entire door. “And there he shall sit for a while. We’ll so us later…” Than he barked at the new visitor. “And who are you? You got an appointment?”

Homer looked back at the stranger. Not even three steps from him hunter was standing, not moving and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was wearing a new uniform and you couldn’t see his face under the shadow of his opened visor. It seemed to he didn’t recognize the old man or he that he didn’t want to get involved. Homer had expected that he was dripping with blood from head to toe like a butcher but the only dark red stain on his clothes was the blood of his own wound.

Hunter looked at the commander with his stone hard look and suddenly he was moving straight to him as if he wanted to go through him into the office.

At first Andrey was angry, mumbled something but retreated and made space for Hunter. The officer who was still holding on to Homer’s collar stopped unsure.

Hunter followed the fat man into the office and him silenced him with a predator-like hissing sound.

Then he whispered something into his ear which sounded like an order.

The officer who had let go of the old man had stepped onto the doorstep. One moment later he flew through the door, followed by dirty curses and the voice of the commander almost screamed. “And let the provocateur in peace!” It sounded as if he had been hypnotized.

With a red head the officer retreated through the door behind him, dragged himself to his place at the entrance and put his head onto a newspaper. When homer was approaching the door of the commander, the man lowered his head even deeper into his newspaper as if this was no longer his concern.

Only after he gave the guard-dog another triumphal look, he looked at the telephones a bit closer. On one of them, the one that was flashing all the time was a small piece of paper where somebody had written with a blue pen the word: TULSKAYA

“We’re in contact with the order.” The sweating commander at the Dobryninskaya crackled his knuckles and didn’t leave the brigadier out of his eyes for even one moment.

“Nobody has informed me of this operation. I can’t make this decision alone.”

“Then call them.” Answered the other. “There’s still time for them to vote on it. But not for long.”

“They won’t approve. Such an operation endangers the stability of Hanza. You know that that is more important than everything. Also we have the situation under control.”

“What stability by the devil? If you don’t do anything…”

Andrey Andreyewitsch remained stubborn and shook his heavy head. “The situation is under control. I don’t understand what you want. All exits are guarded. Not even a mouse can slip through. We can wait it out until it takes care of itself.”

“Nothing is going to take care of itself!” Yelled Hunter. “You’ll only get them to go to the surface and get to other station from there. The station has to be cleaned. I don’t understand why you haven’t done that already.”

“But there could still be healthy people there. How do you imagine it? That I’ll order my boys to burn the Tulskaya to the ground? And also the people from the sect just to be sure? Maybe the Serpuchovskaya too? Half of them have their whores and bastards there! No, you know what? We are not fascists. War is war, but this here… massacring sick people… Even as at the Belorusskaya a similar epidemic happened, they brought the pigs into different corners of the station, so that the sick could be killed and the healthy could live on. They didn’t just kill all of them.”

“That were pigs. Here it’s about Humans.” Said the brigadier in his indifferent voice.

“No, no and again no.” The commander shook his head so that sweat was flying through the room. “I can’t. It’s not humane. How could I have that on my conscience? So that I get nightmares later?”

“You don’t have to do anything. For that there are people that don’t get nightmares. Nothing more.”

“I’ve sent messengers to polis. They’re looking around for a vaccine.” Andrey Andreyewitsch wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “We are hoping that…”

“There is no vaccine. And no hope. Stop putting your head into the sand. Why aren’t there any paramedics here? Why are you refusing to answer the telephone and give the green light for the legions of the order?”

The commander of the station was silent. He tried to close the buttons of his coat, fumbled around with his wet fingers and finally gave up. Then he stepped to the scratched cupboard and put a strong smelling liquor in a small glass and drank it with one sip…

Hunter realized. “You haven’t said anything… They have no idea! At your neighboring station there has been an outbreak and the order knows nothing of it…”

“It is about my head.” Answered the other with a husky voice. “An epidemic at the neighboring station, that’s the end of me. Cause I let it happen… Because I didn’t do anything to prevent it… Because it has endangered the stability of Hanza.”

“Neighboring station? You mean the Serpuchovskaya?”

“Up until now everything has been quiet, but I reacted too late. How should I’ve known…”

“And what have you said to your people? That you’re sending military units to the neighboring station? And close the tunnel?”

“Bandits… A riot… That happens everywhere. It’s common.”

The brigadier nodded his head. “And now it is too late to tell them everything”

“No it’s not just about me stepping down.” Andrey Andreyewitsch filled another glass and drank it as fast as before. “That means the death sentence.”

“And now?”

“I wait.” Said the commander and leaned on his table.

“Maybe something happens…”

“And why aren’t you answering the call.” Said Homer suddenly. “The telephone is ringing all the time, that’s the people at the Tulskaya. Who knows what’s going on there.”

“No it doesn’t. Not anymore.” answered the commander. “I switched off the sound. Only the small lamp is still flashing. As long as it does that there are still people alive there.”

“Why aren’t you picking up?” Repeated Homer angry.

“What am I supposed to tell them?! That they should be patient? Tell them to get well soon? That help is on its way? That they should put a bullet in their heads? Talking with the refugees was enough for me.”

“Shut up already.” Ordered Hunter silent. “Listen up. In 24 hours I am back with a unit. I want you to let us pass freely at all guard posts. You keep the Serpuchovskaya closed. We go to the Tulskaya and do our job. If necessary we’ll do the same thing at the Serpuchovskaya. We wage a little war. You don’t have to contact Hanza. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll see to it myself that… The stability is brought back.”

The commander nodded his head weakly. Exhausted he sank into his chair like bicycle tire with too many holes.

He filled another glass with the snaps, smelled it and before he emptied the glass he asked silent: “You are going to wade in blood up do your elbow. That doesn’t scare you off?”

“You can wash off blood with water.” Answered the brigadier.

When they had left the office of the commander of the station, he took a deep breath and yelled for the officer on duty with his thundering voice. The officer flew through the door and it closed behind him with a creaking sound.

Homer had waited for Hunter. He let him make a few steps and then the lowered himself over the desk of the officer, took the receiver of the blinking apparatus and put it onto his ear. “Hello! Hello! I hear you.” He whispered into it.

Silence… but the silence wasn’t like if the cable had been cut but more like somebody had picked up the receiver on the other end but wasn’t there to answerer Homer anymore. As if the person on the other end had waited for a reaction for a long time and run out of patience. As if the old man with his broken voice was talking into the ear of a dead man.

Hunter had turned around at the doorstep and gave homer a disapproving look. He carefully put the receiver back and followed the brigadier.

“Popov! Popov! Get up! Fast!”

The powerful lamp of the commander shined through his closed eyelids and burnt his brain. A strong hand shook him on his shoulder and slapped Artyom in his unshaven face.

He struggled to opened his eyes and rubbed his burning cheek. But he jumped up from the stretcher, straightened up and saluted.

“Where’s your weapon? Get it quickly and then follow me!”

He had been sleeping in his uniform for days.

Artyom took out his Kalashnikov which he had wrapped into a piece of clothe that had served as his pillow and tiredly walked behind the commander. How long had he been sleeping? An hour? Two?

His head hurt and his throat felt dry.

“It has started.” Yelled the commander over his shoulder. Artyom could smell his breath.

“What has started?” He asked fearful

“You’re going to see that soon enough. There you have a spare clip. You’re going to need it.”

The roomy and pillar-less{in German it’s one word} Tulskaya that looked like the upper part of a big tunnel was plunged into almost complete darkness. Only at a few places a few weak rays of light hit the ground. They moved senseless from one side to the other as if children or apes were playing with the lamps. But where should those apes have come from?

Suddenly Artyom was awake. He realized immediately what was going on and started to gain full control of his assault rifle. They hadn’t been able to hold stand! Or was it still not too late?

Two husky and sleepy fighters emerged out of the guard’s house and joined them. The commander gathered all reserves, everybody who was still standing and could hold a weapon. Some of them were already coughing.

Through the heavy, used up air a strange and terrible sound came to their ears. No scream, no howling, no order, just the moaning of hundredths of throats, tortured, full of hopelessness and horror.

A moaning framed by a metallic sound that came from two, three, no ten different directions.

On the train platform was as giant barricade of ripped and fallen down tents, fallen down cabins, parts of wagons, wood and all kinds of furniture. The commander cleared the way through this junkyard like an icebreaker.

Artyom and the others followed him. On the right, out of the darkness they could see the not totally complete train. The light in both wagons was gone; the open doors had been hastily nailed shut with metal grids. Inside, behind the dark windows was a cooking and terrible crowd of people.

Dozens of hands held on to the bars and ripped on them and made the noise. At every door snipers with gasmask had been posted, where from time to time black mouths opened and raised their rifles, without beating or shooting at them. At a few places the guars tried to calm down the masses. Did the people in the wagon even realize what the soldiers were saying? They had imprisoned them in the train because some had tried to flee from the isolation into the tunnel. They had been to many, more than the healthy. The commander ran past the first wagon and Artyom finally understood why he was in such a hurry: At the last door a pus bubble had exploded and strange creatures flew out of the wagon.

They almost couldn’t stand on their feet and their faces were covered in tumors so that you couldn’t recognize anybody. Their arms and legs were bloated and sickly.

All remaining marksman had been gathered at the door. The commander broke through the ring and stepped in front of them. “To all patients! Turn back immediately to your seats! That’s and order!” With a strong move of his hand he brought the Stetschkin from his belt.

The sick people who were standing closest to him needed many tries to raise their heavy heads.

Then one of them went with his tongue over his bloody lips and asked: “Why do you treat us like that?”

“Like you know you’ve been infected by an unknown epidemic. We are currently searching for a cure… You have to be patient”

“You’re searching for a cure.” Repeated the sick man.

“I think I am going to laugh.”

“Return to your wagon immediately.” The commander unsecured weapon. “I am counting to ten, and then we open fire. One…”

“You give us hope so that you don’t lose control. Until we die on our own.”

“Two…”

“It has been 24 hours since we have gotten any water. Why should you give water to death candidates…”

“The guards are afraid to go near the bars. Two heave already been infected… Three.”

“The wagon is full of bodies. We are stepping on human faces. Do you know how it sounds when a nose breaks? If it’s a child’s then…”

“We have no room for them, we can’t burn them… Four.”

“At one part there is so few room that the dead are standing next to the living. Shoulder to shoulder.”

“Five.”

“Damn it, just shot! I know that there is no cure. At least I’ll die fast. It is like somebody is rasping my insides with a tool and then covers it with alcohol…”

“Six.”

“…In the end burn me. As if my head was full of worms that slowly chewed through my brain and soul… Nom, nom, crack, crack, crack,…”

“Seven…”

“Idiot! Let us go already! Let us die like humans! You don’t have the right to torture us! You know as good as I do that probably we’re all…”

“Eight… All of this is for our own security. So that other can live. I am ready to die but none of you pest bubbles is getting out of here. Take aim!”

Artyom raised his assault rifle and aimed for one of the sick that was closest to him. God in heaven, was that a woman?

He looked into her eyes and put the barrel of his gun on an old and tumbling man. The group of creatures retreated moaning at first, trying to press itself back into the wagon but more and more sick came out of it, like fresh pus from a wound. Moaning and crying.

“You sadist, do you know what you’re doing to us? We aren’t zombies!”

“Nine.” The voice of the commander had broken. It sounded like a whisper.

“Let us go!” Screamed the sick man while he reached with his arms after the commander. As if he was the director the crowd followed his movement and raised their arms.

“Fire!”

As soon as Leonid had put his instrument against his lips the people started to gather around him.

Even after the first sparse and unclean sounds the first people started to smile, clap and were happy.

And when the voice of the flute got stronger their faces transformed. It was like all dirt had fallen off them.

This time Sasha had a special place: Directly next to the musician. Dozens of yes were only on Leonid but even a few looks were on her. At first she had felt uncomfortable because she didn’t even deserve their attention. The melody, like a good book that didn’t let people go and let them forget anything around them, had carried her away from the granite floor as well.

It was the same melody, Leonid’s own, nameless one that flew through the white room. He started and ended his performances with it. With it he straightened wrinkles in the faces of his listeners, wiped away dust from their eyes and lit small lights.

Even though Sasha already knew it, Leonid was able to open small and secret doors on his flute so that the music still sound differently. She felt like she had been staring at the sky for a long time and suddenly between the clouds she had seen an endless green distant land for a second. Suddenly she felt a sting. She winched and was under the earth again and turned around fearfully. There it was: A head bigger then all others in the publicum, a little bit further away, his chin raised. Hunter.

He had put his hard look on her and it only went to the musician form time to time. Leonid didn’t even look at him. Even if something was bothering him while he was playing he didn’t say anything.

Strangely hunter didn’t leave immediately and made no effort to take her with him or stop the concert. Only after the last sounds had stopped he retreated and disappeared.

Immediately Sasha left Leonid standing where he was and made her way through the crowd, to catch up to the bold one.

He hadn’t stopped far way, he was sitting with Homer on a bench. He had also lowered his head.

“You’ve heard everything.” Said the brigadier with a husky voice. “I am continuing. Are you coming with me?”

“Where to?” The old man smiled at the girl tired.

“And she knows.”

Hunter looked at Sasha again with his hard look, then he nodded his head silently and turned back to the old man.

“It’s not far from here.” But he made a movement with his head.” I don’t want to go on my own.”

“Take me with you.” Yelled Sasha sure.

The bold one sighed, his fingers made a fist and opened up again. “Thanks for the knife.” He finally said.

“I made good use of it.”

The girl moved back. Surprised. In the next moment she was already in control of herself again and said: ”You decide what you do with the knife.”

“I had no choice”

She was chewing on her lower lip. “Now you have always have it.”

“No, not even now. If you knew you would understand. If you would truly…”

“Understand what?”

“How important it is that I get through to the Tulskaya. Important for me. As fast as possible…”

Sasha saw that his fingers were shaking slightly and the dark stain on his shoulder had gotten bigger. She was afraid of this man but she was more afraid for him. “You’ve got to take me with you.”

She asked him softly.

“No way.” He answered. “It doesn’t matter who is doing it. Why not me?”

“You’re killing yourself.” She moved closer and carefully took his hand.

He moved back as if she had just bitten him. “I have to do it. The people who are in command here are all cowards. If I hesitated longer, I kill the entire metro.”

“But what if there was another way? A cure? If you… Wouldn’t have to do it anymore?”

“How often do I have to repeat myself: There is no cure against the fever! If so If would… I would…”

“What would you choose?” Sasha was still holding his hand.

“I have no choice.” The brigadier took away his hand.

“Let’s go.” He said to homer.

“Why won’t you take me with you?” Yelled Sasha.

Silent, almost whispering, so that nobody could hear it except for her he said: “I am afraid.”

He turned around and left. While he was passing Homer he told him that he had ten minutes until they were leaving.

“Is it because of the fever?” It suddenly sounded from behind her.

“What?” Sasha turned around and bumped into Leonid.

The musician was smiling innocently. “If I am not mistaken somebody was talking about the fever.”

“You’re mistaken.” She didn’t want to discuss this right now.

“And I already thought that the rumors were true.”

Said Leonid in thoughts and to himself.

Sasha’s fore head got wrinkles: “What rumors?”

“Of the quarantine at the Serpuchovskaya. Talks of this apparently incurable disease. An epidemic…” Leonid was looking at her, watching every movement of her lips and her eye brows.

She blushed. “How long have been listening to us?”

He spread his arms. “I never do it because I want to. I just have the ears of a musician.”

“That’s my friend” she explained and pointed with her head into Hunters direction.

“Great,” answered Leonid.

“Why did you say apparently?”

“Sasha!” Homer had risen from his bench and gave a distrusting Leonid. “Can I talk to you for a second? We have to decide how we…”

“Can I talk for a second?” The young man let the old man stand where he was and with a polite smile he made a few steps to the side and waved the girl to him.

Sasha followed him unsure. He felt that she hadn’t lost the fight with the bold one yet and if she just kept on at it Hunter wouldn’t dare to chase her away again. Then she could finally help him, even though she had no idea how.

Leonid lowered his head and whispered: “It could be that I’ve heard about his epidemic before, or not? Maybe it hasn’t been the first time that this epidemic has broken out. And maybe there are some magical pills for it.”

He was looking into her eyes.

“But he’s saying that there is no cure.” Said Sasha.

“That he has…”

“…To destroy all of them? He, your great friend? That’s no surprise. He probably studied medicine”

“Are you saying…”

“I am saying.” The musician put his hand on Sasha’s shoulder, lowered his head to her and whispered in her ear. “That there is a cure”