Metro 2034

CHAPTER 16 In the Cell

When you can no longer see anything but darkness your other senses sharpen. Smell gets more intensive and sounds louder. In the cell next to them you could hear that something was scraping on the ground and it stank unbearable of piss.

Leonid seemed to still be drunk and didn’t seem to feel any pain. For a small amount of time he was mumbling something and then he turned silent and started to breath heavily. He didn’t care that their pursuers would now definitely catch up to them and he didn’t care what would happen to Sasha.

She had tried to cross the border of Hanza without any explanation and papers. Not to mention the fate of the Tulskaya, he didn’t seem to care about that as well.

“I hate you.” Said Sasha silently.

No reaction.

Little bit later she saw a small hole in the door: A peephole out of glass. Everything else remained invisible but that small point was enough for Sasha who was feeling her way and slowly crawled to the door. Then she started to hammer her small fists against it. The door answered with loud thunder and as soon as she stopped it was a absolutely silent again. The guards didn’t react to the noise nor to the screams. Time passed slowly. How long would they keep them imprisoned? Maybe Leonid had led her here. To separate her from the old man and Hunter. To get her out of the book and into a trap. And all just because…”

Sasha started to cry. The sleeve of her coat sucked in the tears and the sobbing.

“Have you ever seen the stars?” She suddenly heard his still drunken voice.

She didn’t answer “I only on pictures.” He continued. “Not even the sun can penetrate all that dust and clouds, how should the stars do it? But when you started crying, I think I saw a real star”

She swallowed her tears before she answered.

“That’s a peephole.”

“I know. But I am interest in…” Leonid cleared his throat. “Who was that who had stared at the sky with his eyes? And why did he turn away?”

Sasha shook her head. “There was nobody.”

“I always wanted to believe that.” Said the musician sunken in thoughts.

“Nobody cares what will happen to us in this cell!”

She started to cry again. “You had planned this all along, or not? So that there would be no chance that I could do it?” Again she hammered against the door.

“If you believe that there is no one the other side why are you hammering at the door?” Asked Leonid.

“You don’t give a shit if the sick die!”

He sighed. “So that’s your opinion of me, yes? That isn’t fair. You don’t care about the sick either. You’re just afraid that your lover is going to massacre all gets sick to and then you would have a cure…”

“It’s not true!” Sasha was almost ready to start hammering her fist at Leonid.

“It is true!” Said Leonid. “What do think is so great about him?”

She didn’t want to explain it to him. She would have liked to not say a single word to him. But she said it anyways: “He needs me! He really needs me. Without me he’s falling down further into darkness. You don’t need me… You just don’t have anybody who is playing with you!”

“Ok, let’s say he needs you. >To need< seems to be farfetched, but let’s leave it at that… Why do you need him? That pest control? You like dark guys? Or do you like rescuing fallen souls?”

Sasha was silent. It got to her how easy it was for Leonid to guess her feelings. Maybe there weren’t that special to begin with? Or was it because she couldn’t hide them? All the soft and escaping thoughts that she couldn’t turn into words. Out of his mouth they sounded so routinely, yes even banal.

“I hate you.” She said after some time.

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t like me that much as well.”

Sasha sat on the ground. Again she was crying, at first because of anger and then because she felt like she would pass out. As long as she could change something she wouldn’t give up. But while she was sitting here in this dark dungeon with this emotionless human she couldn’t convince anybody to stop.

Everything had been in vain.

And then she had the picture in front of her, the high houses, the green sky, the flying clouds, laughing humans. The hot drops on her cheeks were the ones of the summer rain of which the old man had told her. After one second the illusion had passed, only a slight, wonderful mood was in the air.

Sasha bit on her lip and said to herself: “I want a miracle.”

In the next moment somebody switched on the light in the hallway in front of the door an unbearable bright light flooded into the cell.

They weren’t far from the entrance to the holy capitol of the metro; the marble fortress of civilization with its white shine of the mercury lamps that were spreading an holy aura of rest and prosperity.

At polis they didn’t have save light because they thought it had a magical influence on people.

The overflow of light reminded the people that in distant time’s humanity hadn’t been a creature of the night. No nocturnal predator.

Even the barbarians that got from the Peripherie to the realm of police acted accordingly.

The border patrols weren’t as large as at other stations and the border station reminded Homer of the waiting room of the soviet minister: One desk, one chair, two next to the door officers in clean uniforms.

Controlling papers and searching bags. Homer took his passport out of his pocket. There were no more visas so he didn’t have to worry. He put the green book into the hand of the officer and looked at the brigadier.

He was standing next to him and didn’t seem to hear the orders of the officer. The officer’s hand was slowly moving to the clean grip of his pistol, “Show me your papers or leave the territory of polis immediately!”

Homer was sure: the brigadier hadn’t realized what they wanted of him. He only reacted to where the fingers of the officer were going. After a short moment he reacted and lightning fast his open hand punched the guard in his throat.

He turned blue, croaked and fell with his chair to the ground. The other one ran away and Homer knew that he wouldn’t make it. Like a trickster who had an ace up his sleeve, hunter brought the henchmen’s pistol to light and…

“Wait!”

The brigadier hesitated one second. The fleeing soldier used it and climbed the platform, rolled around the corner and disappear.

“Let them in peace! We need to get to the Tulskaya! You… Wanted that I remind you.” Homer was running out of air. He didn’t know what to say.

“To the Tulskaya…” Repeated Hunter hollow.

“Yes, better wait till the Tulskaya. You’re right.”

He put the heavy pistol next to him and lowered his head.

Homer used that moment, raised his arms and ran ahead to the guards who were jumping forth from behind the pillars.

“Don’t shoot! He gives up! Don’t shoot! By the heavens…”

They bound their hands and ripped his gasmask from his head. Only then they let him talk. All that time the brigadier was standing next to him completely silent. He had sunken back into his strange stiffness and let them take away his weapons without resisting them and they brought him into the cell for their investigation.

Even though they had let Homer go he accompanied him to the cell. Hunter entered, sat next to him on the bed, raised his head and whispered: “You have to find someone for me. His name is Melnik. Bring him to me. I am going to wait…”

The old man nodded his head and quickly turned around. He wanted to make his way through the guards when he suddenly heard hunter yelling: “Homer!”

The old man had a surprised look on his face; Hunter had never called him by his name before.

He returned, stepped to the weak iron door and looked at the brigadier asking.

He had put his giant arms around his body as if he was shivering and mumbled with a weak, toneless voice.

“Hurry!”

The door opened and a soldier took a hesitant look into it, it was the same one how had beaten the musician before. A kick brought him into the cell so that he almost landed on the ground. When he was standing again he looked around unsure.

In the door a tall and thin officer was standing who was wearing glasses. On his shoulders were a few stars. The grey getting dark blond hair was combed back. “Go on you idiot.” He groaned.

“I… Me.” Sobbed the guard.

“Go on!”

“I wanted to excuse what I’ve done. And you… I can’t.”

“Ten more days.”

“Beat me.” Said the soldier and retread from his look.

“Ah, Albert Michailovitsch!” Yelled the musician and blinked into the direction of the officer. “I was beginning to think that would never come.”

The man who he was speaking to had a slight smile on his face. “Good evening. I am here to see that justice is done. Go on, do whatever you want.”

Leonid rose from the ground and stretched his back.

“I have to protect my hands. I think you can take care of the punishment.”

“With all hardness.” Nodded, Albert Michailovitsch.

“Arrest for one month. And of course I have to join the excuse of this idiot.”

“He didn’t mean it in a bad way.” Leonid rubbed his hurting cheek.

“I hope this can remain under us?” The metallic voice of the officer was creaking mysteriously.

“As you can see I was just smuggling somebody through.” The musician nodded into Sasha’s direction.

“Could you help me with that?”

“Done.” Said Albert Michailovitsch.

They let the guilty guardsmen stand in the cell. The officer locked the door and led them along the corridor.

“I am not going anywhere with you.” Said Sasha loud.

Leonid hesitated and said almost inaudible: ”And if I am telling you that we’re really going to the emerald city? What if I just happened to know more than your grandfather? That I’ve seen it with my own eyes? Even been there myself and that only…”

“You’re lying.”

“What if he.” Leaning his head into the direction of the officer. “Only let us go because he knew where I’m from? And that we can surely find a cure in the emerald city? And that it’s just three stations away?”

“You’re lying!”

“How do you know?” Said Leonid angry. “When you really want to believe in miracles then you should be ready to believe in them. Or in the end you’re going to miss it. I always knew that they would let us go. I just wanted to… Not act before it happened.”

“You’ve been playing for time!”

“But I didn’t lie to you! There is a cure!”

They had reached the border. The officer who had turn to them again, gave the musician back his things and even gave him a few bullets and documents. Then he saluted Leonid. “Now, what are you going to do Leonid Nikolayewitsch? Are you taking your smuggle-ware with you or are you leaving it at customs?”

It ran down cold Sasha’s back. “We’re taking it with us.”

“Well then I wish you a life of love and happiness.”

Said Albert Michailovitsch like if he was her father and lead them through the three defense lines. Their occupants saluted them while they passed the out of grids welded tank stoppers. “I hope that you won’t have any problems with your import?”

Leonid was smiling. “We’ll manage. I don’t have to tell you that there’re no honest officials. The stricter the regime the lower the price. You just have to know where to look.”

The officer cleared his throat. “The magical words should be enough.”

“Not for all.” Leonid was feeling his cheek again. “But what was the saying again? I’m no wizard, I am still learning.”

“It would be an honor to deal with you again when your training is complete.” Albert Michailovitsch bowed his head and stepped back.

The last soldier opened the thick iron gate which went from the ground to the ceiling. Then an empty and completely lit part of the tunnel came to their views which walls were covered with ashes at some points and it had been marked by firefights. At the end they could see a new defense line, hanging from the ceiling like giant banters.

Even their look made Sasha’s heart beat faster. She stopped and asked Leonid. “Which border is that?”

“What now?” He looked at her surprised.

“Of course the border to the red line.”

How long had Homer dreamt to get back here!

How long has it been since he had last been here! At the Borovizkaya, with its small and roomy apartments that were directly under the arcs, the reading hall with the Brahman monks in the middle of the room, the long with books covered desks out of planks and the low hanging, with cloth covered lamps. It was interesting how Homer almost could hear conversations from a time before the crisis and the war.

Then the dignified Arbatskaya, totally made out of white and bronze colors, just like the palace of the Kremlin.

With their strict order and the busy military officials who still acted like they had nothing to do with the apocalypse.

Then the old and worthy Biblioteka imeni Lenina, which towered on the surface. They had forgotten to rename it, as if that even made sense because it had been as old as the world even when the young Kolya had stepped foot into the metro the first time. It had its own passage, which was over the romantic commando bridge in the middle of the train platform. Even the surrounding stucco had been renewed, if not a bit sloppy.

Then the Alexandrovski, remaining in the half dark for all eternity, somehow a thin and edgy stop, looking like a blind retired man, who was thinking about his Komsomol-youth.

Homer had always been fascinated by the question, how far did the stations resemble the likeness of its builder?

Were they self portraits of the architects who had designed them?

Had they received small parts of their creators? One thing was sure for the old man: It shaped the inhabitants of the stations; their character was transmitted to the people and they were infected by its special mood.

With all his being Homer didn’t belong to the strict Sevastopolskaya, with all his thoughts and eternal incurable nostalgia. He belonged to polis which emitted the light of the past.

Fate had decided differently though.

Even now that he had reached it he didn’t want to go through the echoing halls and look at the stucco, cast sculptures and to fantasize. But he had to haste on as if was being chased. Hunter had accomplished to bind that horrible creature inside of him with enormous effort. He had to feed human flesh to it from time to time. But this monster inside of him just had to bent the bars of the old cell behind the brigadier was sitting to free itself. Homer had to hurry.

Hunter had asked him to find a man called Melnik.

Was it his cover name? A parole? When the guards had heard that name they transformed immediately: No talk about the tribunal which had threatened the brigadier and also the handcuffs around Homers wrists had disappeared into the cupboard again. And it was the fat leader of the guard that was escorting Homer personally.

They climbed the stairs, walked along the corridor and arrived at the Arbatskaya. There they stopped at a door that was guarded by to man in civilian clothes, killing was their job and you could see it in their faces.

Behind their broad backs a narrow hallway with many small offices on both sides stretched into the distance.

The fat man told Homer to wait and walked along the hallway. After three minutes he was back and studied the old man surprised and told him to come in.

At the end of the hallway was a surprisingly roomy chamber which walls were covered with maps, plans, between them were notes of cryptic radio messages, pictures and newspapers. Behind a broad oak desk sat a thin man in the middle of his life with uncommonly broad shoulders.

Homer saw that he was having his uniform hand over his shoulder and only his left arm came out his sleeves.

After one second Homer saw that his right arm had been almost amputated completely. The man was a giant, his eyes were almost at the same height of Homers and he was standing right in front of him.

“Thanks.” Said the man and let the fat man go who closed the door with noticeable regret behind him. Then he turned to Homer. “Who are you?”

“Nikolayev, Nikolai Ivanovitsch.” Answered the old man confused.

“No more games! When you’re coming to me and claiming that you’re accompanying my most valued comrade who we’ve buried a year ago you have to have a good reason for it. Who are you?”

“Nobody. It’s not about me. He’s alive, believe me. You have to come with me, as fast as possible.”

“Now I am getting the feeling that it’s a trap. Or an idiotic game. Or just a mistake” Melnik (Miller from 2033) lit a self-made cigarette and blew smoke into Homer’s face.

“Good you know his name. But let’s say he was here with you so you should know his story. You should know that we have searched for him for a year, every day of it. That I’ve lost a few good men on the search. And god damned you should know how much he means to me. Maybe even that he was my right hand man.” A bitter smile hushed over his face.

“No, none of it. He never said anything.” Homer had lowered his head. “Please, just come to the Borovizkaya. We have no time…”

“I am not going anywhere. Not without a good reason.” Melnik’s hand reached under the table, moved around without getting up and after a few seconds Homer realized that he was sitting in wheelchair. “Let’s talk about it in peace first. I want to know why you appeared here.”

“My god!” Homer didn’t know what else he should tell that stubborn man anymore. “Believe me.

He’s alive. He is sitting in the ape cage at the Borovizkaya. At least I hope that he’s still…”

“I would like to believe you.” Melnik stopped, took a deep breath of the cigarette so that Homer could hear how the filter paper burnt crackling. “But there are no miracles. You’re just opening new wounds. Well ok. There is my own theory who’s behind this game. But to find that out we have people that are trained to find out just that.” He reached for the receiver of the telephone.

“Why is he afraid of people with dark skin?”

Said homer suddenly and more to himself. Not exactly knowing why.

Melnik froze. Then he carefully put the receiver back where it belonged. He inhaled the rest of his self-made cigarette, spat out the rest into the ashtray and said: “To the devil with it, then I’ll roll to the Borovizkaya.”

“I am not going there! Leave me! I rather stay…”

Sasha wasn’t joking nor playing. Nobody had hated her father more than the reds. They had taken his power, broke him and instead of taking his life they had out of mercy or because they thought he wasn’t worth it, damned him to years of pain and suffering. Her father had never forgiven the people who had betrayed him. Not those who had provoked the people to betray him, who had armed them with weapons and flyers. Even the red color could bring him to rage. And even though he had said that he was no longer after revenge at the end of his life, Sasha had felt that he had just wanted to find a reason for giving up.

“It’s the only way.” Said Leonid confused.

“But we wanted to the Kievskaya! You’ve lead me to a no-man’s-land!”

“Hanza has been at war with the red line for centuries; there I couldn’t tell the first person I saw that we’re going to the communists. I had to think of something.”

“Without lies you can’t do anything or what?”

“The gate is behind the Sportivnaya, I’ve always said that. The Sportivnaya is the last station of the red line, in front of the broken down metro bridge. I can’t change that fact”

“And how are we supposed to get there? I have no papers!” She didn’t let Leonid out of her sight for a second.

Leonid smiled. “Trust me. You just have to talk to people. Long live corruption!” Without listening to any other complains he took Sasha’s hand and dragged her behind him.

Even from a distance you could see the shining search lights of the second defensive line and the giant banters out of read fabric which were hanging from the ceiling. The air moved them so that Sasha almost believed to see two red waterfalls in front of her. Was that a sign…?

If it was right what she had heard about the line they would fill them with holes immediately when they got in range.

But Leonid stepped forward calmly and his self-confident smile on his lips. Like always. Around thirty meters in front of the border station the bright ray of the search light hit is chest. The musician put his instrument box on the ground and raised his arms. Sasha did the same thing.

Two guards enclosed who were sleepy and surprised. It didn’t seem like somebody had ever approached this part of the border.

This time Leonid went with the higher ranking guard to the side before he could even ask for Sasha’s documents.

He was whispering into his ear, strummed with the brass in his hand and the man returned in a better mood. The leader of the guard accompanied them past all posts in person, even put them on a waiting railcar and ordered the soldiers to drive them to the Frunsenskaya.

They activated the lever and gasping for air the railcar started to move. Sasha looked at the faces of the people. Her father had told her they that they were their enemies but they didn’t look special: Coats out of cotton, bleached caps with stars on it, fallen in bony cheeks… They didn’t have bright faces like the guards of Hanza, but instead in their eyes was a curiosity of young men. He inhabitants of the ring line didn’t know about anything that. Also: Those two had no idea what had happened at the Avtosavadskaya almost ten years ago. Were these Sasha’s enemies then? Could you even hate unknown people from your deepest regions of your heart?

The guards didn’t dare to talk to the passengers.

Only the steady groaning was to be heard while they operated the lever.

“How did you do that?” Asked Sasha Leonid.

“Hypnosis.” He was winking with his eyes.

“And what are those documents of yours?” She looked at him distrusting. “How is it that they’re letting you through everywhere?”

“There are different passports for different situations.” He answered vague.

So that no one could hear them she had to move closer to Leonid. “Who are you?”

“An invisible watcher.” He whispered.

If Sasha hadn’t put her hand in front of her mouth the questions would have just rushed out of it.

But now the soldiers were listening and even the sound of the lever had become more silent.

So she had to wait till the Frunenskaya, a dried up and bleached station which fainted face had been covered in the red makeup of the flags. The mosaic on the ground was missing at some parts, the broad pillars had been gnawed on by the tooth of time and the rooms above her were like dark ponds.

Closely over the heads of the inhabitants black lamps on cables moved from one side to the other. They had been put between the pillars and not even one ray of the valuable light was being wasted. It was surprisingly clean here: Even more cleaning ladies then usual hushed over the platform, scrubbing the ground from one side to the other.

The station was full of people, put when they look at Sasha they winched and acted if they were going about their business. Only when she had passed them they relaxed again and talked to each other silently. When she turned around the whispering disappeared and the people got back to their business.

Nobody seemed to want to look into their eyes.

As if it had been something indecent.

Sasha looked at Leonid. “Strangers don’t often go here?”

The musician shrugged his shoulders. “I am a stranger to them as well.”

“Where do you live?”

“There were the people aren’t so dead serious.” He smiled. “Where they know that a human doesn’t just survive on food alone. Where they haven’t forgotten about yesterday even when it hurts.”

“Tell me of the emerald city.” Pleaded Sasha silently.

“Why are they… Why are you hiding?”

“The rulers of the city don’t trust the metro…”

Leonid had to stop and barter with the guards at the tunnel entrance. Then he and Sasha dove into deep darkness.

With an iron lighter he lit the wick of an oil lamp and continued: “They mistrust them because the humans in the metro are gradually losing their humane appearance. Also there are still people here who started that terrible war. They don’t even want to admit that to their best friends. The people of the metro won’t change. You can only fear them and keep them away from the city. You can only watch them. If they would know of the emerald city they would consume it and spit it out again like they do it with everything they get their hands on. The paintings of the old masters would burn. Paper would burn and all that’s on it. The starved building of the university would break down. The only society that has reached peace and harmony would be destroyed. The big ark would sink. And nothing would remain.”

Sasha felt hurt. “Why do you all think that we can’t change?”

“Not all believe that.” Leonid gave looked at her with his head sideways.

“Some try to do something.”

“They don’t seem to try very hard.” Sasha sighed.

“Not even the old man knew of them.”

“Many have heard it.” He said mysterious.

“You mean… The music?” Guessed Sasha.

“You’re one of those who want to change us? But how?”

“To force something beautiful on you.” Joked the musician.

The adjutant pushed the wheelchair while Homer hasted after them. He almost couldn’t keep up and turned around to his giant guard from time to time.

“If you don’t know the story.” Said Melnik, “I’ll tell you. If at the Borovizkaya it won’t be him at least talk to your cellmate about something… Hunter was one of the best warriors of the order, a hunter like out of a book.

His scent was like the one of an animal and he was behind our cause all the way. He was the one that tracked down the dark ones about one and a half years ago. At the VDNCh. Ever heard of it?”

“At the VDNCh?” Repeated Homer sunken in thoughts. “Yes invulnerable mutants that were able read minds and turn invisible, right? I thought they had been called Darks’?

“Whatever… He was the first one to go after the rumors and raise alarm, but back then we didn’t have enough men and time. So I refused support. I had other things to do.”

Melnik moved the rest of his right arm. “Hunter went alone. When we last had contact he told me that they could control the wills of others and make everybody feel true terror. He was an unbelievable, yes a born warrior. He alone was worth as much as a whole unit.”

“I know.” Mumbled Homer.

“He had no fear. He had sent that young boy to us with a message that he had gone up to settle his score with the dark ones. When he wouldn’t be back we should come to the decision that the danger had been greater then we had thought. He disappeared. We thought he was dead. We’ve a system of messages: Who is alive, is obliged to notice us every week. Obliged! He had been silent for over one year.”

“What happened to the dark ones?”

Melnik smiled oblique. “We straightened the entire area with Semertsch-missiles. We haven’t heard anything from the dark ones from that moment. No letter. No call. The exits at the VDNCh were closed and life returned to normal. The boy didn’t make it mentally but as far as I know they brought him back to how he was before. He’s living a normal life and he even married. Hunter on the other hand… I have him on my conscience”.

He rolled over a steel ramp down the stairs, scared a few of the librarians and waited for the air gasping old man and added: “You shouldn’t tell that last part to your cellmate.”

One minute later the entire group had reached the cell. Melnik ordered the cell door to stay closed.

He leaned on the adjutant, fletched his teeth, rose up and looked through the peephole. He just needed a fracture of a second.

Then as if he had made the whole way from the Arbatskaya on foot, Melnik fell down into his chair and put his fainting look over Homer and told him his verdict:

“That’s not him.”

“I don’t think that the music belongs to me.” Said Leonid serious all of a sudden. “I don’t even know how it comes to my head. I just feel like sometimes I’m like the riverbed. I am just the instrument. If I want to play I put the flute to my lips. But it’s like somebody else is putting me to its lips and the melody is created…”

“That’s inspiration.” Whispered Sasha.

He spread his arms. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t belong to me but comes from the outside. I’ve no right to keep it inside. It wanders through the people. I begin to play and see how they gather around me: Rich and poor, those covered in wounds and those shining of fat, crazy ones, cripples, significant people, just all. My music moves something in them and all can tune in on the sound. I am like the tuning fork. I can bring them to harmony, even if it’s just for a short time. They sound is so pure. They sing… How am I supposed to describe that?”

“You’re explaining it very good.” Said Sasha sunken in thoughts. “I’ve noticed it as well.”

“I have to try and plant it in them. In one it decays but in another the seed blossoms. I am not rescuing anyone, I can’t do that.”

“But why won’t the inhabitants of the emerald city help us? And you, why don’t you want to admit that you are doing exactly that?”

Leonid was silent until they had reached the Sportivnaya. The station was just as empty and bleak, overly ceremonial and cheerless as the others. And this one had even lower hanging ceiling, narrower and more burdensome halls.

It smelled of smoke, poorness and pride. A shadow attached himself to their steps immediately.

Wherever they went he followed them up to exactly ten steps.

The girl pushed on but the musician held her back.

“Not now. We have to wait.” He found room on a stone bench and opened the locks of his flute box.

“Why?”

“You can only open the door at a specific time.”

“When?” Sasha’s view turned to the station’s clock.

If it was on time they had only twelve hours.

“I’ll tell you soon enough.”

“You’re delaying everything!” She stared at him and distanced herself. “Sometimes you promise to help me and sometimes you try to delay me!”

“Yes.” He breathed in and looked into her eyes. “I want to delay you.”

“Why? For what?”

“I am not playing with you. Believe me, I would’ve found somebody to play by now, I don’t get a no that fast. I think I am in love. By god, how banal that sounds…”

“You don’t believe that in your life! You just say that, that’s all.”

His voice was still dead serious. “There is a method to tell the difference between love and a game.”

“When you lie to get someone is that love?”

“You can always change the rules of a game. Love just destroys your entire former life. True love doesn’t care for circumstances.”

“I don’t have a problem with that. I have never had a life. Now lead me to the gate.”

Leonid looked at the girl with his heavy eyes, leaned against the pillar and crossed his arms in front of his chest. A few times he breathed in as if he wanted to tell Sasha no, but then he breathed out again without saying one word.

Finally he got smaller and admitted: “I can’t go with you. They won’t let me go back.”

“What does that mean?”

“I can’t go back to the ark. The banished me from it.”

“Banished? Because of what?”

“Because of a certain thing.” He turned away and spoke very silently even thought Sasha was just standing just one step next to him. She still couldn’t understand everything.

“It… was a personal story. With one of the head librarians.

He made me look like a fool in front of others…

In the same night I got drunk and burned down the library. The librarian burnt with the rest of his entire family. It was a pity that they had gotten rid of the death sentence, I would have deserved it. Instead they banished me. For life. For me there is no way back”

Sasha’s hands became fists. “Why did you led me here then? Who did you have to burn my time too?

“You could try to ring,” mumbled Leonid.

“Second side tunnel, twenty meters from the gate there is a marking of white paint. Exactly under it, at the same height as the ground there is the button of a bell. You have to ring three times short, three times long and three times short, that is the signal for returning watchers…”

Leonid helped Sasha to pass the three guard posts and then he went back to the station. As a goodbye he wanted to put an old assault rifle into her hand, which he had gotten somewhere, but Sasha didn’t want it. Three times short, three times long, three times short was all she needed. And a lamp.

The tunnel behind the Sportivnaya made a dark, silent impression at first and so every guard post that passed reminded her more and more of a small fortress.

Sasha wasn’t afraid. She just thought about one thing: Soon she would see the doorstep to the emerald city.

And if the city wasn’t real she didn’t have to be afraid any longer.

The side tunnel was there were Leonid had said it would be. A damaged grid was in front of the entrance but it was big enough for Sasha to slip through. After a few hundredth feet she saw the steel wall of a security door which made an eternal and unshaken impression.

Sasha counted forty feet and indeed: She saw the white markings on the wet and at the same parts sweating wall out of the darkness. She found the the bell immediately. She searched with her hands for the button and put another look at the watch that Leonid had given her. She had made it!

She had gotten there in time! She just had to wait another few moments and she closed her eyes…

Three times short.

Three times long.

Three times short.