Sergei Lukyanenko - Day Watch (Watch, Book 2)

This text has been banned for distribution as injurious to the cause of the Light.

T HE N IGHT W ATCH

This text has been banned for distribution as injurious to the cause of the Darkness.

T HE D AY W ATCH

Unauthorized Personnel Permitted

THE ENTRANCE DID NOT INSPIRE RESPECT. THE CODED LOCK WAS

I NEVER HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO GET READY IN THE

THE MINIBUS WAS DRIVEN BY DENISKA, A YOUNG DARK MAGICIAN

LIFE IS A STRANGE BUSINESS.

I COULD HEAR WATER SPLASHING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF

I FOUND MYSELF CHANGING MY CLOTHES WITH UNFAMILIAR HASTE. Where

WHEN I WAS A FULLY FUNCTIONAL OTHER, I COULD EASILY

A Stranger Among Others

HE COULD ALREADY MAKE OUT THE LIGHTS OF THE STATION

I ONLY CALMED DOWN COMPLETELY WHEN I COULD RELAX AND

FOR THE NEXT TWO DAYS AND NIGHTS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING INTERESTING

I WOKE UP WHEN I REALIZED I WAS BEING CALLED.

SEMYON WALKED INTO GESARS OFFICE, FROZE FOR A MOMENT JUST

EVERYBODY GETS THE FEELING SOMETIMES THAT WHAT IS HAPPENING JUST

Another Power

YUKHA MUSTAJOKI FLAGGED DOWN THE CARHE WAS THE SENIOR MEMBER

GESAR HAD SUMMONED ANTON IN THE EVENING, WHEN THE ANALYSTS

ANTON LOVED PRAGUE. IN FACT, HE SIMPLY COULDN'T UNDERSTAND HOW

ONE THING THE DARK ONES CERTAINLY HAD WAS A LUST

THE INQUISITION HAD NOT BEEN MEAN WITH THE DETAINEES. THE

RAIVO BEGAN WALKING AROUND THE HOTEL ROOM, GESTICULATING WITH untypical

BY MIDDAY ANTON HAD GIVEN UP.

T HE ENTRANCE DID NOT INSPIRE RESPECT . T HE CODED LOCK WAS BROKEN , the floor was littered with the trampled butts of cheap cigarettes. Inside the elevator the walls were covered with graffiti, the word Spartak scrawled as often as the usual crude obscenities. The plastic buttons had been burned through with cigarettes and painstakingly plugged with chewing gum that was now rock-hard.

The door to the apartment on the fourth floor was a good match for the entrance: some kind of hideous old Soviet artificial leather, cheap aluminum numbers barely held on by their crooked screws.

Natasha hesitated for a moment before she pressed the doorbell. She must be insane, hoping for anything from a place like this. If you were so crazy and desperate that youd decided to try magic, you could just open the newspaper, switch on the TV, or listen to the radio. Legitimate spiritualist salons, experienced mediums with international diplomasIt was all a swindlethat was clear enough. But at least youd be in pleasant surroundings, with pleasant peoplenot like this last resort for hopeless losers.

She rang the bell anyway. She didnt want her journey to be a waste of time.

At first it seemed like the apartment was empty. Then she heard hasty footsteps, those typical of someone in a hurry whose worn slippers are falling off their feet as they shuffle along. For a brief instant the tiny spy-hole went dark, then the lock grated and the door opened.

Oh, Natasha, is it? Come in, come in

She had never liked people who spoke too familiarly upon first meeting. There ought to be a little bit more formality.

But the woman who had opened the door was already pulling her into the apartment, clutching her unceremoniously by the hand, and with an expression of such sincere hospitality on her aging, brightly made-up face, that Natasha couldnt bring herself to object.

My friend told me that you Natasha began.

I dont know, I dont know about that, my dear, said her hostess, waving her hands in the air. Oh, dont take your shoes off, I was just going to clean the place upoh, all right then, Ill try to find you a pair of slippers.

Natasha looked around, finding it difficult to conceal her disgust.

The hallway wasnt so very small, but it was crammed full. The light bulb hanging from the ceiling was dull, maybe thirty watts at best, but even that couldnt hide the general squalor. The hallstand was piled high with clothes, including a musquash winter coat that fed the moths. The small open area of the linoleum floor was an indistinct gray color. Natashas hostess must have been planning her cleaning session for a long time.

Your names Natasha, isnt it, my daughter? Mines Dasha.

Dasha was at least fifteen or twenty years older than her. She could have been Natashas mother, but with a mother like that youd want to hang yourselfA pudgy figure, with dirty, dull hair and bright lacquer peeling off her fingernails, wearing a washed-out housecoat and crumbling slippers on her bare feet. Her toenails glittered with bright lacquer too. My God, how vulgar!

Are you a seer? Natasha asked. And in her own mind she screamed: What a fool I am!

Dasha nodded. She bent down and extracted a pair of rubber slippers from a tangled heap of footwear. The most idiotic slippers ever inventedthe kind with all those rubber points sticking out on the inside. A yogis dream. Some of the rubber prongs had fallen off long ago, but that hadnt made the slippers any more comfortable.

Put them on! Dasha suggested joyfully.

As if she were hypnotized, Natasha took off her sandals and put on the slippers. Goodbye, pantyhose. She was bound to get a couple of runs, even in her famous Omsa tights with their famous Lycra. Everything in this world was a swindle invented by cunning fools. And for some reason intelligent people always fell for it.

Yes, Im a seer, Dasha declared as she attentively supervised the donning of the slippers. I got it from my grandma. And my mom too. All of them were seers, they all helped people, its in our familyCome into the kitchen, Natasha. I havent tidied up the rooms yet

Still cursing herself for being so stupid, Natasha went into the kitchen, which met all her expectations: a heap of dirty dishes in the sink, a filthy tablewhen they appeared a cockroach crawled lazily off the top and underneath. The windows had obviously not been washed for the spring, and the ceiling was fly-spotted.

Sit down. Dasha deftly pulled a stool out from under the table and moved it over to the place of honorbetween the table and the refrigerator, a convulsively twitching Saratov.

Thank you, Ill stand. Natasha had made her mind up not to sit down. The stool inspired even less confidence than the table or the floor. DashaThats Darya?

Yes, Darya.

Darya, I really only wanted to find out

The woman shrugged. She clicked the switch on the electric kettleprobably the only object in the kitchen that didnt look as if it had been retrieved from a garbage heap. She looked at Natasha. Find out? Theres nothing to find out. Everythings just as clear as day.

For a moment Natasha had an unpleasant, oppressive sensation, as if there werent enough light in the kitchen. Everything went gray, the agonized rumbling of the refrigerator and the noise of the traffic on the avenue nearby fell silent. She wiped the icy perspiration off her forehead. It was the heat. The summer, the heat, the long journey in the metro, the crush in the trolleyWhy hadnt she taken a taxi? Shed sent away the driver with the carwell, shed been ashamed to give anyone even a hint of where she was going and whybut why hadnt she taken a taxi?

Your husbands left you, Natashenka, Darya said affectionately. Two weeks ago. Left all of a sudden, packed, threw his things into a suitcase and just upped and left you. Without any quarrels, without any arguments. He left the apartment, left the car. And he went to your rival, a pretty young bitch with black eyebrowsbut youre not old yet, my daughter.