Ice Trilogy (69 page)

The brothers and sisters watch me.

Their hearts
listen carefully
.

“We must be
prepared
,” I whisper.

Their hearts
understand
.

At the
eleventh kilometer of the Kiev Highway, a black Geländewagen with blue flashing lights, followed by a Jeep with bodyguards, began to pass the Mercedes driven by Obu.

Obu, Tryv, and Merog cried out joyfully.

“It’s Uf!” Merog shouted and
flared
. “Thank the Light! The shield is with us!”

“The Light is with us!” declared Tryv and Obu.

“The Light is with us!” Obu repeated joyfully, falling in behind the Jeep.

The cortege of three black cars sped on.

They turned off at Vnukovo, then proceeded toward the airport, passing the main terminal and arriving at the one for private airplanes. Merog quickly got out of the Mercedes with the blue suitcase. He relinquished it to two
eager
pairs of hands in the Geländewagen. One of the pairs he couldn’t help but recognize — decisive, white, with golden hairs on wide wrists and small pinkish nails.

“Uf!” Merog sighed, and his heart
flared
with delight.

The suitcase disappeared into the depths of the Geländewagen, the door with tinted glass closed, and the car drove up to the terminal gate. Following the car with an excited gaze, Merog placed his hands on his breast. His lips trembled and his legs felt weak. He fell on his knees.

“U
f..
.”

Obu and Tryv jumped out of the Mercedes, ran over, and began to lift Merog. A policeman strolling past the terminal spoke up.

“What happened?”

Obu and Tryv lifted Merog to his feet.

“It’s his heart,” Obu said to the policeman.

“Uf,” said Merog, and with a moan he inhaled.

Obu and Tryv led him, swaying, to the car.

“There’s a shitload of work, it got to him,” Obu said, curling his lip and making a wry face, and going around the policeman, who was staring at them.

“Well, should
I...
you want me to call the airport doctor?” the policeman asked, pulling his walkie-talkie out of a pocket.

“Thanks, pal, but we’ve got everything we need,” Tryv answered.

They sat Merog down in the Mercedes; Obu turned the car around and they drove off.

After a cursory examination of documents at the swing gate, the Geländewagen drove out toward the aerodrome. The security Jeep followed it. The vehicles pulled up to a small jet. The guards got out and surrounded the Geländewagen. Uf and Bork stepped out. Uf carried a briefcase, Bork the suitcase. One of the guards reached for the suitcase, but Bork shook his head.

“No, I’ll carry it myself.”

Uf shook hands with the head of the security guards, who in turn wished them a safe trip. The airplane’s hatch opened and the stairs were lowered. A pretty blue-eyed stewardess in a blue uniform and blue gloves stood at the top of the hatch and smiled warmly. Uf climbed the steps first, shook the stewardess’s hand, entered, and tossed the briefcase on a seat. Following him, Bork carried the suitcase and set it down in the cabin. Two pilots came out of the cabin, greeted Uf, and reported on flight preparations. Uf greeted them with a few formalities, and they went back into the cabin. The pilots weren’t Brothers of the Light. The stewardess, sister No, locked the door to the cabin. Bork and Uf placed the suitcase on the table and opened it. The boy slept. Bork grew terribly pale, shuddered, and
flared
. His lips trembled, he went down on his knees near the suitcase, grabbed the rug with his hands, dug into it, and squeezed, breaking his nails. A deep moan escaped his lips. Sister No, on seeing the boy, covered her face with her elegant fingers.

Uf remained calm. His powerful heart, which had accomplished many great feats in the name of the Light, obeyed him. He carefully uncovered the boy, laid him down more comfortably, sat in a chair, and placed a hand on Bork’s shuddering blond head. And quickly
helped
with his heart. Bork’s cheeks grew rosier, his eyes shut partway, and his head hung powerlessly on his chest.

“The Light is with us,” declared Uf, covering his small white eyelashes.

“The Ligh
t...
Ligh
t...
L-l-l-l-
l..
.” Bork babbled almost inaudibly, and with a moan fell flat on his back.

Shaking off her stupor, No leaned over Bork.

“His heart is tired of waiting,” said Uf.

“Help me,” asked No. “I can’t manage.”

Uf came closer, took Bork by one arm; No took the other. Their hearts
helped
Bork’s heart. He opened his eyes. They raised him and sat him in a chair.

“The Light will soon rid you of that body,” said Uf, and he touched Bork’s pale, perspiring face with his fingertips.

Bork kept staring at the boy. Pushing Uf’s hand away, he wanted to get up. But Uf held him back.

“Rely on the Ice.”

With a moan, Bork closed his eyes. His whole body shuddered. He took Uf’s hand and held on to it as though it were an
anchor
, constantly glancing at the boy sleeping in the suitcase.

“Restrain yourself,” Uf said.

And he felt
strong
hearts approaching and looked through the window: a black Mercedes 600 with government license plates accompanied by a police Audi was approaching the airplane.

“Brothers! Thank the Light!” No pressed Uf’s hand to her chest, stood up, and rushed to the exit.

Soon brothers Odo and Efep entered the cabin. Odo — large, heavy, gray-haired, blue-eyed, and long-bearded — was arrayed in a dark-purple cassock. On his chest hung a cross and the encolpion of a metropolitan of the Orthodox church, while his plump white hand clutched a pastoral staff. Efep had grayish-blue eyes. He was short, sported a buzz cut of grayish hair, white mustache, and neatly trimmed beard. He was dressed in a light-gray suit with the three-color pin of a deputy of the Russian Federation State Duma on his lapel.

Closing the door of the cabin after them, No stood at the door.

On entering, the brothers halted. Their eyes fixed on the boy sleeping in the suitcase. Odo handed the staff to No and, without taking his eyes off the boy, slowly sat on the floor in front of the suitcase, his cassock rustling. Efep stood still; his wall eyes gazed without blinking.

Uf stepped toward them. He held out his hands.

Efep held out his. Odo slowly reached out with his own powerful hands. The three brothers joined hands and formed a circle over the sleeping boy. They closed their eyes.

Bork in the armchair and No, standing with the staff at the door, froze.

After a few minutes, a slight shiver ran across the brothers’ shoulders. Their hands unclasped.

“Yes!” said Odo in his deep bass voice, opening his eyes.

“Yes,” whispered Efep, exhaling with relief.

“Yes,” said Uf clearly.

Bork sobbed and clenched his teeth, writhing from joy in his chair. Tossing aside the staff, sister No rushed to Bork and, trembling, embraced him.

Odo, Efep, and Uf paid no attention to them.

“I was certain. But not entirely,” Uf said.

“Even Khram doesn’t
see
sleeping hearts,” muttered Efep, blinking rapidly.

“Khram
knows
but doesn’t
see
,” Odo murmured. “Only the Great Circle is capable of
seeing
.”

“Only if the sleeping meat is in the center of the Great Circle,” Efep objected.

“The Great Circle no longer has need of sleeping meat.” Uf sighed sharply.

“The sleeping meat is here,” Odo said in his deep voice, picking up the staff from the floor and rising from his knees, stroking his beard, as was his habit.

“The meat will awaken.” Efep carefully brought his face close to the boy’s face.

“The meat will become Light!” Odo cried, shaking his gray mane.

Bork and No sobbed.

“Rely on the Ice!” roared Odo, striking the floor with his staff.

Bork and No sniffled and grew quiet.

“Brother, our
hearts
envy you.” Efep took Uf by the hand. “You are flying with him.”

“You will see Khram. You will help with the
meeting!
” Odo continued.

“You will close the Great Circle!” Efep squeezed Uf’s hand hard.

“You cannot fly with me,” said Uf,
supporting
with his heart.

“We
know
,” Odo answered.

“We
know
,” Efep calmed himself and
calmed
Uf.

“I also
know
this,” Uf said with a tortured smile, and his small, reddish eyelashes closed. “Your place is here. The meat is coagulating.”

“We will
restrain it!
” Odo roared with certainty.

The boy moaned in his sleep. Everyone, except Uf, was on guard.

“He needs to sleep another four hours,” said Uf. “It’s time, brothers.”

Odo and Efep
flared
briefly: “Uf! No! Bork!”

“Odo! Efep!” Those remaining
flared
in response.

Efep was the first to leave the cabin. Odo cast a grave look at the sleeping boy,
subdued
his heart flare, knocked his staff on the floor, and left, his cassock rustling.

Bork, Uf, and No took the diapers off the boy, dressed him in blue shorts and a blue T-shirt with a large crimson strawberry on it. They put him in a chair to sleep.

Uf pressed the button to call the pilot. There was a delicate knock on the door of the cabin. Sister No opened it. The thin, well-built, black-haired, brown-eyed pilot entered. Uf shook his hand. The pilot glanced at the sleeping boy, and quickly turned his eyes to Uf.

“Are we ready?”

“Yes,” Uf nodded.

“I’ll call the border guards,” said the pilot, and left.

Soon a green border-guard Lada drove up to the airplane. A young lieutenant and a middle-aged captain came on board and began to check all the passports and baggage. The boy was written in Uf’s passport as his son.

“Too much soccer, eh?” said the lieutenant, glancing at the sleeping boy, and stamping the passport with the word
EXIT
.

“If only!” Uf said, shaking his head sadly as he took his passport back. “Computer games. And it’s impossible to get him away from them.”

“At age six? Not bad!” said the lieutenant approvingly, nodding his head.

“And where are we going with all these computers?” the round-faced customs officer said ingratiatingly, looking Uf in the eyes.

“To the Other World,” Uf answered seriously.

Bork’s and No’s hearts shuddered
sweetly
. The customs officer lingered a moment and felt sad; he nodded goodbye and headed for the exit.

“
Bon voyage
,” smiled the lieutenant.

“
Bon rester
,” Uf replied.

The officers left. The hatch closed. The engines began to hum and the plane moved out onto the runway.

“When he wakes up, we’ll be flying,” Uf said, fastening the boy’s seat belt, sitting in a nearby seat and fastening his own. “Another small dose will be needed. But not deep sleep. There’s a border there, too.”

“I’ll pick out what we need,” said No.

The jet took off.

Uf looked out the window at the Country of Ice disappearing below and leaned his strong, strawberry-blond head against the clean white headrest of the chair.

“
Gloria Luci!
”

On July
7, at 4:57 a.m. local time, the freight train traveling the Ust–Ilimsk–St. Petersburg–Helsinki route crossed the border of Finland and began to brake for the customs house. The first slanting rays of the rising sun slipped along two blue locomotives coupled together and eighteen grayish-white refrigerator freight cars painted with huge blue signs saying
ICE
. As soon as the train stopped, a junior lieutenant of the customs service and two policemen with a German shepherd approached the locomotives. The blue door of the second one opened, and a tall, well-proportioned blond in a light-blue summer suit and white-and-blue tie, wearing a silverish ICE Corporation tiepin, walked down the steel stairs. In his hand he held a blue briefcase.

“Good morning,” the blond said cheerfully in Finnish, and smiled.

“Goot murning,” the short, sharp-nosed customs officer with a thin mustache answered, not very cheerfully.

The blond handed him his passport and the customs officer quickly found the stamp with a mark denoting the border crossing; he returned the passport, turned around, and walked over to the white customs building. The blond walked vigorously along with him, while the policemen remained near the train.

“Judging by the burning smell, you’re having a dry summer too?” the blond said in excellent Finnish.

“Yeah. But that’s your peat swamps burning,” the customs official answered in a grumpy voice.

They entered the building and walked up to the second floor. The Finn opened the door into a small office. The blond entered. The customs officer closed the door behind him and remained in the hallway. A corpulent, balding captain sat at the customs desk drinking coffee while he leafed through papers.

“Hello, Mr. Lapponen.”

“Nikolai! Hello there!” The captain smiled, offering his plump, strong hand. “Long time no see!”

“The last two trains came through in the daytime. Mr. Tyrsa handled them,” the blond said, shaking the outstretched hand.

“That’s right, yes, yes.” The captain looked at the blond man and smiled. “You’re always in shape, full of energy. It’s nice to see.”

“Thank you.” The blond clicked the lock of the briefcase, opened it, and handed over a package of documents.

Lapponen took them, put on his narrow, gold-framed glasses, and thumbed through the documents.

“Eighteen as usual?”

“Eighteen.”

The blond took a small Ice hammer, as long as his fingers, with a piece of mountain crystal instead of a piece of Ice, and placed it on the documents.

“What’s that?” said Lapponen, raising his eyebrows.

“The company ICE is turning ten this year.”

“Ah!” Lapponen took the souvenir. “And here I was, thinking you were trying to bribe me.”