The Last Watch (24 page)

But the fuss had already begun. They greeted me and introduced themselves: Murat, sixth level; Timur, fifth level; Nodir, fourth level. I thought they looked their real age, about twenty to thirty. According to Gesar, there were five Others in the Samarkand watch … and according to Alisher, the members of the Watch in Tashkent were younger. How much younger could they be? Did they take on children from school?

‘Valentina Ilinichna, Other. Fourth level.'

‘Anton Gorodetsky, Other, Higher,' I said in turn.

‘I run the office,' the woman went on. She was the last to shake my hand and in general she behaved like the most junior member of the Watch. But I estimated her age as at least a hundred and fifty, and her Power was greater than the men's.

Another peculiarity of the East?

But a second later any doubt about who was in charge here was dispelled.

‘Right, boys, get the table set out quick,' Valentina commanded. ‘Murat, you take the car, run round the route quickly and call into the market.'

And so saying, she handed Murat the key to the huge old safe, from which the young guy took out a tattered wad of banknotes, trying his best to do it inconspicuously.

‘Please, there's no need!' I implored them. ‘I'm only here for a brief, entirely unofficial visit. Just to introduce myself and ask a couple of questions … And I have to call in to the Day Watch too.'

‘What for?' the woman asked.

‘There were no Others at the border check. There was just a notice in the Twilight, saying that Light Ones should register with the Day Watch on arrival, and Dark Ones should register with the Night Watch.'

I wondered what she would have to say about such a flagrant piece of incompetence. But Valentina Ilinichna merely nodded and said:

‘We don't have enough members to maintain a post in the airport. In Tashkent they do everything properly … Nodir, go and tell the ghouls that Higher Light One Gorodetsky is here on a visit from Moscow.'

‘I'm here unofficially, but not exactly on personal—' I began, but no one was listening to me any longer. Nodir opened an inconspicuous door in the wall and walked through into the next room, which I was surprised to see was equally large and half empty.

‘Why the ghouls?' I asked, struck by an unbelievable suspicion.

‘Oh, that's the Day Watch office, they haven't really got any ghouls, that's just what we call them – to be neighbourly …' Valentina Ilinichna laughed.

I followed Nozdir into the next room without saying anything. Two Dark Others – one young and one middle-aged, fourth and fifth level – smiled at me amicably.

‘
Assalom aleikhum
…' I muttered and walked through the large room (everything was just the same, even the samovar was standing in the same place) and opened the door to the street running parallel to the one from which I had entered the building.

Outside the door there was an identical garden and on the wall there was a sign:

DAY WATCH

Samarkand branch

Business hours:

8.00 – 20.00

I closed the door quietly and walked back into the room. Nodir had evidently sensed my reaction and cleared out.

One of the Dark Ones said good-naturedly:

‘When you finish your business, come back to see us, respected guest. We don't often get visitors from Moscow.'

‘Yes, do come, do come!' the other one said emphatically.

‘Some time later … thank you for the invitation,' I muttered. I went back into the Night Watch office and closed the door behind me.

It didn't even have a lock on it!

The Light Ones appeared slightly embarrassed.

‘The Night Watch,' I hissed through my teeth. ‘The forces of Light …'

‘We've cut back on space a bit. Utilities are expensive, and there's the rent …' said Valentina Ilinichna, spreading her hands and shrugging. ‘We've been renting these premises for two offices like this for ten years now.'

I made a simple pass with my hand and the wall separating the Light Ones' office from the Dark Ones' office lit up with a blue glow for an instant. The Dark Ones of Samarkand were not likely to have a magician capable of removing a spell cast by a Higher One.

‘There's no need for that, Anton,' Valentina Ilinichna said reproachfully. ‘They won't listen. That's not the way we do things here.'

‘You are supposed to keep a watch on the powers of Darkness,' I exclaimed. ‘To monitor them!'

‘We do monitor them,' Timur replied judiciously. ‘If they're right next door, it makes them easier to monitor. And we'd need five times as many members to go dashing around all over town.'

‘And the signs? What about the signs? Night Watch? Day Watch? People read them!'

‘Let them read them,' said Nodir. ‘There are all sorts of offices in the city. If you try to hide and don't put up a sign, you're immediately suspect. The militia will come round, or bandits working the protection racket. But this way everybody can see this is a state organisation, there's nothing to be got out of it, let it get on with its work …'

I came to my senses. After all, this wasn't Russia. The Samarkand Watch didn't come under our jurisdiction. In places like Belgorod or Omsk I could criticise and lay down the law. But the members of the Samarkand Watch didn't have to listen to me, even though I was a Higher Light One.

‘I understand. But in Moscow it could never happen … Dark Ones sitting on the other side of the wall!'

‘What's the harm in it?' Valentina Ilinichna asked in a soothing voice. ‘Let them sit there. I expect their job's not too much fun either. But if anything happens, we won't compromise on our principles. Remember when the
zhodugar
Aliya-apa put a hex on old Nazgul three years ago, boys?'

The boys nodded. They livened up a bit and were obviously quite ready to reminisce about this glorious adventure.

‘Who was it she put the hex on?' I asked, unable to resist.

They all laughed.

‘It's a name – Nazgul. Not those nazguls in the American movie,' Nodir explained, and his white teeth flashed as he smiled. ‘He's a man. That is, he was – he died last year. He took a long time to die, and he had a young wife. So she asked a witch to sap her husband's strength. We spotted the hex, arrested the witch, reprimanded the wife, did everything the way it's supposed to be done. Valentina Ilinichna removed the hex, everything worked out very well. Although he was an obnoxious old man, a very bad character. Malicious, greedy and a womaniser, even though he was old. Everybody was glad when he died. But we removed the hex, just like we're supposed to do.'

I thought for a moment and sat down on a squeaky Viennese chair. Yes, knowledge of the Uzbek language wouldn't have been much help to me. It wasn't a matter of language. It was a matter of a different mentality.

The rational explanation had calmed me down a bit. But then I spotted Valentina Ilinichna's glance – kindly, but condescendingly sympathetic.

‘But even so, it's not right,' I said. ‘Please understand, I don't want to criticise, it's your city, you're responsible for maintaining order here … But it's a bit unusual.'

‘That's because you're closer to Europe,' Nodir explained. He obviously didn't think that Uzbekistan had nothing at all to do with Europe. ‘But it's all right here: when there's peace we can live beside each other.'

‘Uh-huh,' I said and paused before I went on: ‘Thank you for the explanation.'

‘Have a seat at the desk,' Valentina Ilinichna said amicably. ‘Why are you sitting over in the corner like a stranger?'

I actually wasn't sitting in the corner at all. Timur was finishing setting the table in the corner. The bright-coloured tablecloth that had instantly transformed two office desks into one large dining table was already covered with plates of fruit: bright red and luscious green apples; black, green, yellow and red grapes; huge pomegranates the size of a small melon. And there was very appetising-looking home-made salami, meat cut into slices and hot bread cakes that must have been heated using magic. I remembered how in one rare moment of nostalgia Gesar had started singing the praises of the bread cakes in Samarkand – how delicious they were, how they didn't turn stale even after a week, all you had to do was warm them up, and you just kept on and on eating them, you couldn't stop … At the time I had taken what he said as the standard old man's reminiscences of the sort ‘the trees were bigger then, and the salami tasted better'. But now I began drooling at the mouth and I suddenly suspected that Gesar hadn't been exaggerating all that much.

And there were also two bottles of cognac on the table. The local kind – which frightened me a bit.

‘Forgive us for laying such a simple table,' Nodir said imperturbably. ‘Our junior member will be back from the market soon, and we'll dine properly. Meanwhile we can make a light start.'

I realised there was no way I was going to escape a gala dinner with abundant alcohol. And I suspected it was not only Alisher's entirely understandable interest in his old girlfriend from school that had made him dodge an immediate visit to the Watch. It was many years since a visit by someone from Moscow had also been a visit from a superior, but even so, Moscow was still a very important centre for the members of the Samarkand Watch.

‘I've actually come here at Gesar's request …' I said.

I saw from their faces that my status had soared from simply important guest to quite unimaginable heights. Somewhere way out in space, where Others could not go.

‘Gesar asked me to find a friend of his,' I went on. ‘He lives somewhere in Uzbekistan …'

There was an awkward pause.

‘Anton, are you talking about the devona?' Valentin Ilinichna asked. ‘He went to Moscow – in 1998. And he was killed there. We thought that Gesar knew about it.'

‘No, no, I'm not talking about the devona!' I protested. ‘Gesar asked me to find Rustam.'

The young Uzbeks exchanged glances Valentina Ilinichna knitted her brows.

‘Rustam … I've heard something about him. But that's a very, very old story. Thousands of years old, Anton.'

‘He doesn't work in the Watch,' I admitted. ‘And, of course, he has a different name. I think he has changed his name many times. All I know is that he is a Higher Light Magician.'

Nodir ran a hand through his coarse black hair and said firmly:

‘That's very difficult, Anton-aka. We do have one Higher Magician in Uzbekistan. He works in Tashkent. But he's young. If an old and powerful magician wishes to hide, he can always manage it. Finding him doesn't just require someone who is powerful, it requires someone who is wise. Gesar himself should search for him.
Kechrasyz
, apologies, Anton-aka. We will not be able to help you.'

‘We could ask Afandi,' Valentina Ilinichna said thoughtfully. ‘He is a weak magician and not very … not very bright. But he has a good memory, and he has lived in this world for three hundred years …'

‘Afandi?' I asked cautiously.

‘He's the fifth member of our Watch.' Valentina Ilinichna seemed a little embarrassed. ‘Well, you understand, seventh level. He mostly takes care of the office and grounds. But he just might be able to help.'

‘I'm almost certain he will,' I said, with a nod, remembering what Nadya had said. ‘But where is he?'

‘He should be here soon.'

There was nothing else I could do. I nodded again and walked towards the ‘empty' table.

Murat got back half an hour later carrying several full bags, and some of their contents immediately migrated to the table. He carried the rest into the small kitchen attached to the main premises of the Watch. My culinary knowledge was sufficient for me to realise that pilaf was about to be made.

And meanwhile we drank the cognac, which unexpectedly turned out to be quite good, and tried the fruits. Valentina Ilinichna let Nodir lead the conversation. And I listened politely to the history of the Uzbek Watches from ancient mythological times to Tamerlaine, and from Tamerlaine to our own time. I won't lie – the Light Ones here had not always lived in perfect harmony with the Dark Ones. There were plenty of grim, bloody and terrible events. But I got the feeling that the flare-ups of hostility between the Watches in Uzbekistan were governed by laws that I knew absolutely nothing about. People could fight wars and kill each other, while the Watches maintained a polite neutrality. But during Khrushchev's time and the early years of Brezhnev's rule, Light Ones and Dark Ones had fought each other with quite incredible ferocity. Three Higher Magicians had been killed at that time – two from the Day Watch and one from the Night Watch. And that war had also decimated the ranks of first- and second-level Others.

Then everything had gone quiet, as if the ‘stagnation' of the
1980s
also extended to the Others. And since then relations between Dark Ones and Light Ones had consisted of a rather half-hearted stand-off: more jibes and taunts than genuine enmity.

‘Alisher didn't like that,' Timur observed. ‘Is he still in Moscow?'

I nodded, delighted by this opportune change of subject.

‘Yes. He's in our Watch.'

‘How is he getting on?' Nodar asked politely. ‘We heard he's already fourth level.'

‘Practically third,' I said. ‘But he can tell you himself. He flew down with me, but he decided to visit some friends first.'

The members of the watch were clearly not pleased by this news. Timur and Nodir both looked not exactly annoyed but uncomfortable. Valentina Ilinichna shook her head.

‘Have I said something to upset you?' I asked. The bottle we had drunk together obliged me to speak frankly. ‘Do explain to me what the problem is. Why do you feel that way about Alisher? Is it because his father was a devona?'