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Authors: Victor Pelevin

Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #sci-fi, #Dystopian

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BOOK: Omon Ra
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“No,” I replied.

“It’s easy. You play a bit of the tape, write down what you heard, and then play a bit more. If you can’t make it out the first time, you listen to it as often as you need to.”

“I understand. Permission to go?”

“Granted. No, wait. I think you’ll understand why I’m asking you to do this for me. Very soon you’ll have all sorts of questions that no one down there will answer.” As he spoke, the Flight Leader jabbed his finger towards the floor. “I could have decided not to answer them too, but I think it’s better for you to know what’s going on. I don’t want you tormenting yourself unnecessarily. But bear in mind that neither the political instructors nor the crew must know what you find out. What’s happening now is a breach of discipline on my part. So you see, even generals commit them sometimes.”


Without speaking, I picked up the tape recorder from the table, together with a few yellow forms—they were the same as the ones I had seen the day before—and went to room 329. The curtains on the windows were firmly closed, and the metal chair with the leather straps on the legs and armrests still stood in the middle of the floor, only now there were wires leading to it from the wall. I sat at a small writing desk in the corner, placed a ruled sheet of paper in front of me, and switched on the tape recorder.

“Thank you, Comrade Colonel … It’s very comfortable,
more like an armchair really, ha-ha-ha … Of course I’m nervous. It’s kind of like an examination, isn’t it? … I understand. Yes. Two i’s—Sviridenko …”

I switched off the tape recorder. It was Mitiok’s voice, but it was strange somehow, as though someone had attached a blacksmith’s bellows to his vocal cords instead of his lungs—he was speaking in a relaxed, singsong fashion, always on the outbreath. I wound the tape back a bit and pressed “Play”. I didn’t stop the tape again after that.

“… like an examination, isn’t it? … I understand. Yes. Two i’s—Sviridenko … No thanks, I don’t smoke. No one in our group does, they wouldn’t fit in … Yes, over a year now. I can hardly believe it. As a kid I used to dream of flying to the moon … Of course, of course. That’s right, only people with hearts as pure as crystal. They have to be, with all the earth spread out below … About who on the moon? No, I’ve never heard anything about it… Ha-ha-ha, you’re pulling my leg … But your room is a bit strange—well, unusual. Is it like this everywhere here, or just in this special section? All those skulls on the shelves, my God—lined up just like books. And all with labels, look … No, I didn’t mean that. If they’re on the shelves, there must be a reason. Autopsies, some kind of archives … I understand. I understand. Really, now! … How on earth was it saved? … And this here, over the eye, is that from the ice pick? … Mine. There were two more forms as well. The final check is just before blast-off. Yes. I’m ready. But, Comrade Colonel, I gave all the details … Just talk about myself, since I was a child? No,
thank you, I’m quite comfortable … Well, if that’s the procedure. You should have headrests, like they have in cars. The pillow could fall down if I lean forward … Aha, I was just wondering why you have that mirror on the wall. So you stand the other one on the table. What a thick candle … Made of what? Ha-ha-ha, you’re joking, Comrade Colonel… That’s incredible. Honestly, it’s the first time I’ve seen anything like it. I read about it somewhere, but I’ve never seen it done. Incredible. It’s like a corridor. Where? Into this one? Holy Jesus, what a lot of mirrors you have, it’s like being in a hairdresser’s. Why no, what do you mean, Comrade Colonel? … It’s just a turn of phrase I picked up from my grandmother. I’m a scientific atheist, otherwise I wouldn’t have gone to the aviation college … I remember fairly well. I didn’t move to Moscow till I was eleven—I was born in one of those small towns on a railway line—a train goes by once in three days, and nothing else happens. Absolutely nothing. The streets are filthy, and the geese walk down the middle. Lots of drunks. Everything is grey—winter, summer, it makes no difference. Two factories, a cinema. And the park, of course, but it’s better not to stick your nose in there. And then, you know, when there’s this buzzing in the sky, you lift up your eyes and watch. No need to explain that… And I was always reading books, I owe everything that’s good in me to them. My favourite, of course, was
The Andromeda Nebula
, that really made an impression on me. Just imagine it—an iron star … And on this planet black as night—a Soviet star ship, with a swimming pool, in the middle of a circle of blue light, and where the light ends—a hostile life form that
fears the light and has to stay hidden in the darkness. Some kind of medusas or other—I didn’t really understand what they were—and there’s this black cross—I think that’s a hint at the Church and the priests. This black cross creeps through the darkness, and the people are working where the blue light is, mining anameson. And then the black cross zaps them with some weird energy! It aimed for Erg Noor, but Niza Krit shielded him with her breast. Afterwards our guys took their revenge—a nuclear strike out to the horizon. They saved Niza Krit and they caught the boss medusas and packed them off to Moscow. And I was thinking while I read it, What great work they do in our embassies abroad! It’s a good book. I remember another one, too … There was this cave …”

“…”

“No, the cave came later, and it wasn’t a cave, it was corridors. Low corridors with ceilings covered in soot from torches. At night the warriors carried torches while they guarded the Lord Prince. Protecting him from the Akkadians, so they said. Actually from his brother, of course … Forgive me, Lord Commander of the North Tower, if I say what I shouldn’t, but everyone here thinks the same—all the warriors and the servants. And even if you order my tongue to be cut out, anyone will tell you the same thing. It was Queen Shubad herself who garrisoned the troops here, as protection against Meskalamdug. Whenever he goes hunting he always rides along the southern wall, with two hundred warriors in pointed bronze caps—why does he need them to hunt lions? Everyone talks about it. Of course not, Lord Commander of the North Tower, you must
have been chewing cinquefoil again! I’m Ninhursag, priest of Arrata and carver of seals. That is, when I grow up, I shall be a priest and a carver, I’m still a boy as yet… What’s that you’re writing? Why, you know me. You gave me that bridle with the bronze pendants. Don’t you remember? Why … Just a moment… I was sitting with Namtura—you know him, his ears were cut off—and he was teaching me how to carve a triangle. That was the hardest shape of all for me. First you make two deep cuts, and then you use a broad chisel to prise it out from the third side and … Yes, that’s right, and then someone outside dragged open the curtain insolently and we looked up, and there were two warriors standing there. Great joy! they said. Our prince is a prince no longer, but the great king Abaraggi! He had just departed to the deity Nanna, and so we also had to make ready to leave. Namtura wept from happiness; he began singing something in Akkadian and tying his things together in a bundle. But I went straight out into the yard, telling Namtura to gather up the chisels. By Urshu the mighty! The warriors carrying torches made the yard as bright as day! Why no, Lord Commander of the North Tower, of course not. Namtura mumbles away like that all the time … No, I never offered any sacrifices, either. Don’t. I am now the Nuun of the great king Abaraggi, it is not such a simple matter to have my ears cut off, you need a royal decree … Very well, I forgive you. Then the Lord Master of the Bolt came up to me and said: Ninhursag, take this dagger of state bronze, you are a man now. And he gave me a bag of barley flour—you will prepare your food along the way, he said. Then I looked, and saw them walking around the
yard in their bronze caps. Great Urshu! I thought. I mean, Great Anu! Meskalamdug and Abaraggi must have made peace … But then, how can you argue with a king when his every word is Anu? Then they showed me my chariot and I climbed up into it. There was another boy standing in it—he drove the bulls. I’d never seen him before. All I remember is that he had beads of turquoise, expensive beads. And a dagger in his belt—he’d just been given one too. When I looked round at the fortress I felt a bit sad. But then the clouds parted, and the moon shone so brightly through the gap … And I felt so relaxed and happy … Then they moved aside the stone slab in the cliff wall beside the stables, and there was the entrance to the cave. I never knew there was a cave there. I really didn’t … May I never be valorous in battle! It was you there! I remember now. And then, Lord Commander of the North Tower, you came over to us with two bowls of beer and said it was from the king’s brother Meskalamdug. You were wearing the same skirt, but you had a painted bronze cap on your head. We drank it down. I’d never drunk beer before. Then the other boy shouted something, and tugged on the reins, and we set off—straight into the gap in the cliff face. I remember the road led downwards, and along the sides—I couldn’t see, it was dark … Afterwards? Afterwards I found myself here in your tower. Was it the beer that affected me like that? Will they punish me? Intercede for me, Lord Commander of the North Tower. Tell them what happened. Or give them the tablets—you’ve written it all down. Of course I have it … No, I won’t give you it, I’ll apply it myself. No one gives away their own seal, by U … Anu the Intercessor!
There! Do you really like it? I made it myself. It took three attempts to get it right. This is the god Marduk. What fence? Those are the higher gods. Intercede for me, Lord Commander of the North Tower! I’ll carve three seals for you. No, I’m not crying … There, I’ve stopped. Thank you. You are a man of wisdom and power. Don’t tell anyone I was crying … They’ll say, What kind of priest of Aratta is he, if a drink of beer makes him cry … Of course I want to. Where? To the south or the north? Your wall is entirely covered in mirrors. I understand … Yes, I know that. It was when Ninlil went to bathe in the clear flowing waters, and then came out onto the bank of the canal. Her mother told her again and again, but still she came out onto the bank of the canal, and Enlil put a child in her belly there. And afterwards he came to Kiur, and the council of the gods said: Enlil, violator of women, be gone from the city! And of course, Ninlil followed him … No, it’s not too bright. The other two? That was later, when Enlil disguised himself as a watchman at the ford and Ninlil was already carrying Nanna beneath her heart …”

“…”

“But then, those two are simply different aspects of one and the same deity. You could say that Hecate is the dark and mysterious aspect, while Selene is the bright and marvellous aspect. But I must admit I’m not very knowledgeable in this area—I just heard a thing or two in Athens … Yes, I was. In Domitian’s time. I was hiding there. Otherwise, Father Senator, you and I wouldn’t be riding in this sedan chair now … The usual thing—
lèse majesté.
They claimed my master had
a statue of the Princeps in his courtyard, and two slaves were buried beside it. He never had such a statue. Even under Nerva we were afraid to go back. But there’s nothing to be afraid of with the present Princeps. He sent Plinius Secundus himself to us as his Legate—how the times have changed, glory be to Isis and Serapis! It’s no accident … Why no, what do you mean, Father Senator, I swear by Hercules! I picked that up in Athens, the place is just packed with Egyptians … What interesting tablets you have, you can hardly see the wax at all. And the lion’s muzzles—are they electron? You don’t say, Corinthian bronze … It’s the first time I’ve seen it … But you already know me—Sextius Rufinus. No, I’m a freedman. A sedan chair is really a marvellous thing—if the slaves are skilful, that is—you can write as you ride along. And the lamp burns just like in a room, and the stone pines float past outside … Well now, Father Senator, I see you can read a man’s heart. I’m constantly composing verse to myself. It’s not Martial, of course, I’m just blunting styli really … ‘I sing a song in petty verse,/As one time Catullus did sing,/And also Calvus and the ancients./What does it matter to me?/I have chosen verse, quitting the forum …’ I exaggerate, of course, Father Senator, but that’s what poetry is for. Actually, it was literature that made me a witness in the trial of the Christians. I went to see our Legate. A great man … Well, I wasn’t exactly a witness. No, no, I wrote down everything just the way it was—he really is from Galilee, that Maximus. They meet at his house by night and breathe some kind of smoke. Then he goes up on the roof wearing nothing but his sandals and crows like a cock—as soon as I saw it I knew they were Christians …
I made up the bit about the bats, of course. But what does it matter? They’re bound for the gladiator school anyway. But I really took a liking to our Legate. Yes … He invited me over to his table and read my verse. Then he said: Sextius, you must come to dinner. At the full moon. I’ll send someone for you, he said. I gathered up all my scrolls of verse—he’s bound to send them to Rome, I thought. I put on my finest cloak … No, I can’t wear the toga, I’m not a Roman citizen. We set off, but the road led out of town. We were travelling a long time, and I fell asleep in the carriage. When I woke up I saw a building, something between a villa and a shrine, and torchbearers. Well, we went inside and through into the courtyard. There was a table already laid under the open sky, and everything was lit up by the moon—it was unbelievably huge. The slaves said to me, The Lord Legate will be out in a minute, lie down at the table and have some wine. This is your place, under the marble lamb. I lay down and began to drink, and all the others lying there kept looking at me in silence. I wonder, I thought, what the Legate can have told them about my verse … I began to feel quite uncomfortable. But then two harps began to play behind a screen, and suddenly I felt so happy—it was remarkable. Somehow I found myself up on my feet and dancing … And then tripods of fire appeared, and some other people in yellow tunics. I think they were a little out of their minds—they just sat there and sat there, then suddenly they would stretch out their arms towards the moon and start singing something in Greek … No, I couldn’t make it out—I was dancing and enjoying myself. Then the Lord Legate appeared—he was
wearing a pointed Phrygian cap with a silver disc and carrying a reed pipe. His eyes were glittering. He poured me more wine. You write fine verse, Sextius, he said. Then he started talking about the moon—exactly like you, Father Senator. Heh, heh, I keep wondering what we’re doing riding in this sedan chair? That’s right … You’re in your toga now, but then you were wearing a tunic and a pointed Phrygian cap, like the Legate’s. Yes, and you were holding a red lance with a horse’s tail. I felt awkward about turning my back to you, but the Legate kept saying to me, Look at Hecate, Sextius, and I’ll play my pipe for you. He started playing—really quietly, and I looked up and went on looking, and then you started asking me about Hecate and Selene. But how did I manage to get into your sedan chair? Is anything wrong? Well, praised be Is … Hercules. Apollo and Hercules … Very well, I’ll take them back, I brought them for the Legate to read. Are you a literary man too, Father Senator? I see you keep writing all the time. Aha. A keepsake. You liked the verses too. ‘This hour for you does Liei walk, and in her hair—a regal fragrant rose.’ Of course. Let me apply my cameo. Never mind, the carving is quite shallow, it doesn’t need much wax to print the image. Are we almost there? Thank you, Father Senator, my hair was rather dishevelled. How much would a mirror like that cost in the metropolis? You don’t say? In Bythinia we can buy a house for that sum. Is it Corinthian bronze too? Silver? And there’s an inscription …”

BOOK: Omon Ra
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