‘You were talking about Ramenki,’ recalled his partner, ‘about how it got bombed, and I thought, for as long as I’ve been serving here, nobody can tell me anything about the Kremlin. How is it that it remained whole? Why didn’t it get hit? I mean, that’s where’d you expect to find right proper bunkers…’
‘Who told you it didn’t get hit? Man, did it get hit!’ the sentry assured him. ‘They just didn’t want to demolish it, because it’s an architectural monument, and also because they were testing new weapons against it. So that’s what we got… It would’ve been better if they’d wiped it off the earth from the beginning.’ He spat and fell silent.
Artyom sat quietly, trying not to distract the veteran from his reminiscences. It was rare that he was able to hear so many details of how everything had come about. But the elderly sentry remained quiet, lost in some private thought, and eventually Artyom seized the moment and decided to ask a question that had preoccupied him earlier, too:
‘But there’s subway systems in other cities, aren’t there? At least, I heard there were. Is it true there’s no people left anywhere? When you were a radio operator, didn’t you hear any signals?’
‘No, I didn’t hear anything. But you’re right. People in Petersburg, for example, should have been able to save themselves. Their subway stations are deeply embedded, some even deeper than what we’ve got here, and the setup was the same. I travelled there when I was young, I remember. On one line, they had no exits onto the tracks. Instead, they had these hefty iron portals. When the train arrived, the portal doors would open together with the doors of the train. I remember this quite me surprised at the time. I asked everyone, but nobody could properly explain why things were set up that way. One told me it was to prevent flooding, another told me it saved a heap of money on finishing work. Later, I became friends with this one subway worker, and he told me that something had devoured half of one construction team, and that the same was going on with other teams. They were finding only the gnawed bones and the tools. Of course, the public was never told anything, but those iron doors were installed all along the line, just to be on the safe side. And that was, let me think, back when… Anyway, what the radiation may have spawned there is hard to imagine.’
The conversation broke off as Melnik and one other person, short and thickset, with deeply set eyes and a massive jaw overgrown by a short beard, came up to the gate. Both were already wearing their protective suits and had large haversacks slung on their backs. Melnik silently inspected Artyom, placed a large black bag next to Artyom’s feet, and motioned towards the army tent.
Artyom slipped inside and, opening the zipper on the bag, took out a black set of overalls like the ones Melnik and his partner wore, an unusual gas mask, with a full-face window and two filters on the sides, high laced boots, and most important, a new Kalashnikov assault rifle with a laser sight and folding metal stock. It was an exceptional weapon. The only thing Artyom had seen like it had been carried by the elite Hansa units who patrolled the line in railmotor cars. A long flashlight and round helmet with a fabric cover lay at the bottom of the bag.
He hadn’t had the time to finish dressing when the tent flap lifted and the Brahmin Daniel entered. In his hands, he held an identical zippered stretch bag. They stared at each other in amazement. Artyom was the first to realize what was what.
‘You’re going up? You’re our chaperone? You’re going to help us go look for I don’t know what?’ he asked, jeeringly.
‘I know what it is,’ snarled Daniel, ‘but I have no idea how you intend to look for it.’
‘Neither do I,’ admitted Artyom. ‘I was told it’d be explained later… So here I am, waiting.’
‘And I was told that a clairvoyant is being sent up to the surface, and that he’s supposed to feel where to go.’
‘I’m the clairvoyant?’ snorted Artyom.
‘The elders believe that you have a gift and that your destiny is special. Somewhere in the Testament is a prophecy foretelling the appearance of a youth, led by fate, who will find the hidden secrets of the Great Library. He will find that which our caste has attempted to find for this past decade without success. The elders are convinced that this person is you.’
‘Is it that book you told me about?’ asked Artyom.
For a long time, Daniel didn’t answer, then he nodded his head.
‘You’re supposed to feel it. It’s not hidden from everyone. If you’re really that same “youth, led by fate”, then you won’t even have to run around the stack archives. The book will find you,’ he said, running his eyes over Artyom searchingly, and then added, ‘What did you ask from them in exchange?’
There was no use keeping back the truth. Artyom was only unpleasantly surprised that Daniel, who was supposed to give him information capable of saving VDNKh from the ghoul invasion, knew nothing of this danger or of the conditions of his agreement with the Council members. He briefly summarized the agreement for Daniel and explained the catastrophe he was trying to prevent. Daniel attentively heard him out, and was still standing motionless and thinking about something when Artyom left the tent.
Melnik and the bearded stalker were already waiting in full combat dress, holding their gas masks and helmets in their hands. His partner now carried the light machine gun, while Melnik clasped a copy of the assault rifle that Artyom had been given. A night vision device was hanging around his neck.
When Daniel stepped out of the tent, he and Artyom looked at each other with a swagger, then Daniel gave a wink and both started to laugh. They both now looked like real stalkers.
‘We lucked out… Before rookies go on important missions, they spend two years training under stalkers, fetching firewood from the surface. But you and I, we’re sitting pretty!’ said Daniel, whispering, to Artyom.
Melnik looked at them disapprovingly, but said nothing. He motioned for them to follow. They came up to the passage arch and, after going up the stairs, stopped at the next cement block wall, where there was an armoured door guarded by a reinforced sentry detail. The stalker greeted the sentries and gave the sign to open the door. One of the soldiers got up from his seat, went to the door and pulled at the bolt heavily. The thick steel door moved smoothly to the side. Melnik let the other three pass, saluted the sentries, and went out last.
A short buffer zone about three metres in length began beyond the door, between the wall and the pressure doors. Another two heavily armed soldiers and an officer stood watch there. Before giving the order to raise the iron barrier, Melnik decided to brief the rookies.
‘Listen up. No talking en route. Either of you ever been on the surface? Never mind… Give me the map,’ he said to the officer. ‘Until we get to the vestibule, walk in my footsteps and don’t wander. Don’t look around, don’t talk. When we leave the vestibule, don’t even think about going through the turnstiles, or you’ll lose your legs. Keep following me. I don’t want to see any independent activity. Then I’ll go outside. Ten over there,’ he pointed at the bearded stalker, ‘will stay behind and cover the station vestibule. If everything is clear, then as soon as we’re on the street, we’ll immediately turn left. It’s not too dark right now, so don’t use your flashlights out there. We don’t want to attract attention. Did you get the word about the Kremlin? It’ll be on the right, but one tower can be seen above the buildings as soon as you come out of the metro. Don’t look at the Kremlin, no matter what! I’ll personally smack anyone who does upside the head.’
So it’s true, about the Kremlin and about the stalker’s rule not to look at it, no matter what, thought Artyom in amazement. Suddenly, something stirred within him, some fragmented thoughts and images… Stirred, and then calmed down.