Day Watch

by Сергей Лукьяненко

  As he sang, I suddenly realized with piercing clarity that nothing was going to happen. There was a group of people sitting over there on the sand, enjoying themselves with a bottle or two and some bread rolls stolen from the supper table to go with them. And the most that I could count on, stupid fool that I was, was an invitation to spend the rest of the night in his room…

  But even so I walked toward the sound. Just to make certain…

  You say there's no such thing as love,

  There's nothing but the carrot and the stick,

  But I say flowers bloom

  Because they don't believe in death.

  You tell me that you never want

  To be a slave to anyone at all.

  I say that means the slave will be

  Whoever you have by your side.

  I never liked that song. I don't like the group Nautilus Pompilius in general-their songs sound almost as if they were ours, but there's something subtly different about them. No wonder the Light Ones are so fond of them.

  But I particularly disliked that song.

  I was only two or three steps away from Igor when I realized that he was there on the beach alone. Igor noticed me too-he raised his head and smiled, still singing:

  Maybe I am wrong,

  Maybe you are right.

  But I have seen with my own eyes

  The grass reaching for the sky.

  Why should we argue all night long

  And lie sleepless till the dawn?

  Maybe I am wrong,

  Maybe you are right.

  What good is arguing to us,

  The day will come and then

  You'll see for yourself

  If there's a bottom to the sky

  And why

  The grass reaches up to it…

  I sat down beside him on a large fluffy towel spread out on the sand and waited patiently for the song to end. When Igor finally put down his guitar, I asked him: "Playing for the waves and the sand?"

  "For the stars and the wind," he corrected me. "I thought it would be hard for you to find me in the dark. And I didn't like the idea of bringing a tape deck."

  "Why not?"

  He shrugged. "Surely you can feel it? This is a time for living sound."

  Igor was right. Maybe I didn't agree with his choice of song, but I was all for the idea of living sound…

  I looked him over without saying anything-or rather, I tried to look him over in the darkness. He was barefoot, dressed in nothing but his shorts. His hair had a wet gleam to it-he must have been in the sea already. He reminded me of someone at that moment… someone from one of the old fairy tales, either a jolly troubadour or a prince dressed up as a troubadour…

  "The water's warm," Igor said. "Shall we go in?"

  That was when I realized I'd been in too much of a hurry to get to the beach.

  "Igor… you'll laugh at me… I can't go swimming. I forgot my bathing costume."

  He thought for a moment and then asked very calmly, "Are you shy? Or are you afraid I'll think you did it deliberately?"

  "I'm not afraid, but I don't want you to think that."

  "I don't think that at all," Igor said and stood up. "I'll go into the water and you come and join me."

  He took off his shorts right at the water's edge, started to run, and dived almost immediately. I didn't hesitate for long. I hadn't even thought about seducing Igor in such a primitive way-I really had forgotten my bathing costume in my room. But there was no way I was going to feel shy, especially in front of an ordinary human being.

  The water was warm and the waves caressed me like a lover's hands. I swam after Igor, and the shoreline receded and blurred until only the lighted lamps marked Artek out in the night. We swam far beyond the buoy, probably a kilometer from the shore. I caught up with Igor, and then we were swimming beside each other in silence, not saying a single word. Not competing with each other, moving in the same rhythm.

  Finally he stopped, looked at me, and said, "That's enough."

  "Are you tired?" I asked, a little surprised. It had seemed to me that he could go on swimming forever… and I-well, I could have swum across the Black Sea and got out in Turkey.

  "No, I'm not tired. But the night is deceptive, Alisa. This is the maximum distance I could pull you to the shore if anything happened."

  I remembered what Natasha had said about him being "reliable." Looking into his face, I realized it wasn't bravado and he wasn't joking. He really was in control of the situation at every moment. And he was ready to save me.

  You funny little human being. In the morning or tomorrow night I'll gather a little more Power-and then I'll be able to do whatever I like with you. And it won't be you who'll save me if anything happens. I'll save you-you big, strong, confident, reliable man… But right now you're sure of yourself, sure of your ability to protect and save, like a little child walking along a dark street with his mother and telling her, "Don't be afraid, Mom, I'm here…"

  Maybe it is in the style of the Light Ones, but even so, I like it somehow…

  I swam slowly up to Igor. Right up to him. I put my arms around him and whispered, "Save me."

  The water was warm, but his body was hotter than the water. He was as naked as I was. We kissed, sometimes going under the water, then surfacing with a rush and gulping in the air and searching for each other's lips again.

  "I want to go back to the beach," I whispered. We started swimming, sometimes touching each other, sometimes stopping to exchange another long kiss. I had the taste of salt and his lips on my lips, my body seemed to be on fire, the blood was pounding in my temples. You could drown like that… from the excitement, from the impatience, from the longing to be closer.

  About five meters from the beach, where the water was already shallow, Igor picked me up in his arms as easily as if I weighed nothing at all, carried me to our clothes and put me down. I felt the towel under my back and the stars swayed over my head.

  "Come on…" I whispered, spreading my legs. Like a depraved little girl, like a seasoned slut… and this was me, a witch of the Moscow Day Watch who was loved by Zabulon himself!

  But right now that didn't bother me at all. There was only the night, the stars, Igor…

  He lowered himself toward me, his right hand slid under my back and caught me between the shoulder blades, his left hand slid across my breasts and for just a moment he looked into my eyes-as if he were doubtful, hesitating, as if he weren't feeling the same burning desire for intimacy that I was. I arched up involuntarily to meet his body, felt for his aroused member with my hips, swayed-and it was only then that he entered me.

  How I wanted him…

  It was like nothing else in the world. Not like sex with Zabulon, who always took on the form of a demon for this. With Zabulon I had always experienced a wild, painful pleasure, but it had always had a feeling of humiliation in it, sweet and arousing, but still humiliation. Not like sex with ordinary men, whether they were inexperienced youths full of strength, hefty hunks, or experienced, aging womanizers. I'd tried everything. I knew it all and I could make an evening with any man interesting in its own way.

  But this was different.

  It was as if we really did become one, as if my desires were immediately transmitted to him and his to me. I could feel the trembling of his member that had entered my body, and I knew that he could come at any moment, but he was putting that moment off and I was balanced there on the same agonizingly sweet, timeless boundary of pleasure.

  It was as if he had known me for years and could read me like an open book. His hands responded to the desires of my body before I could even feel them myself, his fingers knew where to be gentle and where to be rough, his lips slid over my face without stopping for an instant, his thrusts became more and more powerful, carrying me up into the dark sky on a swingboat of delight and I whispered something without knowing what I was saying…

  And then the world stopped and I groaned, clutching at his shoulder
s and scratching, moving after him, not wanting to let him go. The pleasure was as brief as a flash of lightning, and as blindingly bright. But he didn't stop, and I was buoyed up again, balancing on that wave of sweetness-and at the precise moment when his eyes opened wide and his body went totally rigid, I came again. But this time in a different way-the pleasure wasn't as piercing, it was long and pulsating-as if it were following the rhythm of his sperm, spurting into my body.

  I couldn't even groan anymore. We lay beside each other- I was on the towel and Igor was on the sand-touching each other, caressing each other, as if our hands had a life of their own. I pressed my cheek against his chest, catching the salty smell of the sea and the sour smell of sweat, his body shuddering under my hand. And I didn't even realize when I started kissing him, moving lower and lower and burying my face in the rough hair, caressing him with my lips and my tongue, feeling the excitement mounting in him again. Igor lay there without moving, just touching my shoulders with his hands. And that was right, that was what he should do, because now I wanted to give him pleasure. And when he came again with a quiet groan, unable to restrain himself, I felt as happy as if he had been caressing me.

  Everything was just the way it should be.

  Everything was like nothing that had ever happened before.

  No orgy, not even the very liveliest, had ever given me so much pleasure. I had never felt such happiness, not with one man or two or three, never felt this feeling before… this feeling of… completeness? Yes, that was it, completeness! I simply didn't need anyone else.

  "I love you," I whispered. "Igor… I love you."

  He could have answered that he loved me too-and he would have spoiled everything, or almost everything. But he only said, "I know."

  When Igor got up and took something out from under the heap of clothes on the sand, I could hardly even believe my eyes at first.

  A bottle and a glass. A crystal glass. Just one.

  Igor smiled, the cork went flying into the air and the foaming champagne poured into the glass. I took a mouthful. Brut, and cold too.

  "Now am I good or bad?" he asked.

  "Bad," I said, holding out the glass to him. "For hiding a precious treasure like that!"

  Igor smiled and drank the wine. Then he said thoughtfully, "You know, I think I'm getting that feeling again…"

  He started, and stopped speaking, straightening up abruptly. I jumped up-just in time to see an indistinct shadow slip away into the night from behind a beach parasol not far away.

  "That's not good," Igor whispered.

  "Who was it?" I asked. The realization that someone had been watching us didn't increase my excitement as it usually did. Completeness. Total completeness. Even the sip of champagne was just a pleasant extra after sex now, but not really necessary. And I certainly didn't need any outsiders.

  "I don't know… it looked like one of the children." Igor was clearly upset. "That's really bad… how stupid."

  "It's no disaster," I said, putting my arms around his shoulders. "The little ones are already asleep, and it's good for the older ones… it's part of their education too."

  He smiled, but he was obviously concerned. That's people for you… always making a big deal out of nothing…

  "Let's go to your room," I suggested.

  "Okay," said Igor with a sharp nod. He looked at me. "But remember, in that case you won't get any sleep today."

  "I was just going to warn you about that," I said. And it was true.

  Chapter six

  –«¦»-

  When I was a fully functional Other, I could easily go without sleep for five or six days. But even now I wasn't feeling sleepy at all. Quite the opposite. I could feel my blood simply seething with energy.

  I got back to our summer house half an hour before reveille and looked in on the girls-some of them were tossing and turning as they woke up, but everything was all right. No one had run off to go swimming and drowned, no one had been kidnapped by evil terrorists, no one had got it into her head to go looking for their brigade leader in the middle of the night.

  I went into my room with a smile of stupid satisfaction. I got undressed slowly and lazily, standing in front of the mirror, then ran my hands sensuously over my thighs and stretched like a satisfied cat.

  An insane night. A magical night. I must have done just about all the wild things that a woman can do when she's in love with a man. Even things I hadn't liked before had suddenly become tantalizing pleasures that night. Surely I couldn't really have fallen in love with a human being? It wasn't possible… Not with an ordinary man, even if he did understand me better than anyone else in the world.

  It just wasn't possible.

  "Darkness, let him be an Other," I whispered. "Great Darkness, I implore you…"

  It's a dangerous game to bother the primordial Power with such petty requests. Although… I don't believe the Darkness is able to hear a simple witch. But I expect Zabulon can shout loud enough for it to hear him…

  Zabulon…

  I sat on the bed and covered my face with my hands.

  Only two days ago nothing would have brought me more joy than his love. But now?

  Of course, he himself had suggested that I should amuse myself. And of course, he couldn't give a damn for banal human dogmas, especially those that made up the repertoire of the Light Ones. Infidelity meant nothing to him. And as for jealousy… he wouldn't even say a word against it if Igor and I…

  Stop! Where is this taking me?

  "Alisa, you've lost your wits…" I whispered.

  Was I really still so much like ordinary people? Could I really think-what a terrible thing to say-of getting married? To a human being? Of cooking him borscht, washing his socks, bearing his children and raising them?

  It was just like the old saying: The Watch by day, disgrace by night…

  But yes, I could…

  I shook my head, imagining how the other girls would react. No, there was nothing unusual about the actual fact. Most witches are married and, as a rule, to human beings. But…

  It was one thing to cast a spell on some wealthy and influential man, an oligarch, or even a deputy of the State Duma or some major Moscow gangster. But a simple young guy, a student, without any money or contacts? I imagined the kind of jokes that would be hurled at me… and with good reason- that was the most terrible thing!

  But it wasn't the sex that was driving me insane.

  What was it that was happening to me?

  It was as if I'd been enchanted by an incubus…

  I shuddered at the monstrous thought. What if Igor was an ordinary incubus? A colleague… from one of the primitive types of Dark Ones?

  No. It was impossible. An incubus would have sensed that I was an Other. A Dark Other, even if I had been temporarily deprived of Power. And he would have never turned his Power on a witch, knowing the price he would have to pay for that. I'd grind him into dust if my Power returned and I discovered love had been imposed on me…

  Love? So it was love then? "Oh, Alisa…" I whispered. "What a fool you are…"

  Well all right, so I am a fool!

  I took a clean pair of panties out of my bag and went into the shower.

  I dashed about like someone possessed all day long until the evening. Everything went quickly, but that didn't bother me in the slightest. I even had a bit of a quarrel with the camp commandant when I was trying to get good places for my girls at the movie festival. But I got them, and I think I left her with an improved opinion of me. Then they gave out the pieces of dark glass that had been brought from somewhere in the town of Nikolaev for watching the next day's eclipse of the sun. Five pieces of glass were given out to every brigade, but I managed to get hold of six. I hadn't even expected anyone in Ukraine to think of making them, but since they had…

  After that came the beach, but of course didn't it just happen that today the boys' brigades had gone off on some stupid trip or other! Even the sea brought me no joy. But at a cer
tain moment I looked at Natasha, understood her sad glance, and realized the comedy of the situation. I wasn't the only fool. There were two of us: the girl, pining for her boy and barely even daring to fantasize about kisses, and me, who had done things the night before that you wouldn't even find in the porn videos in the alley at the Gorbushka Market… Opposite extremes meeting.

  "Are you missing him?" I asked in a quiet voice. Just for a moment it seemed Natasha was going to get furious and she looked at me indignantly… then suddenly she sighed: "Uh-huh… you too?"

  I nodded without speaking. The girl hesitated for a second and asked, "Were you with him until morning?"

  I didn't lie to her, especially since there was no one else there. I just asked, "Did you follow me?"

  "I felt afraid in the night," the girl said quietly. "I woke up. I was having such horrible dreams… I came to you, but you weren't in your room."

  "Until the morning," I confessed. "I like him very much, Natasha."

  "Were you making love?" she asked in a businesslike tone of voice.

  I wagged my finger at her: "Natasha!"

  She wasn't embarrassed at all. On the contrary, she lowered her voice and told me, as if I were her bosom friend, "I can't get anywhere with mine. I told him that if he tried to kiss me, I'd punch him in the eye, and he said, "As if I wanted to!" Why are boys so stupid?"

  "He'll kiss you," I promised her. And I thought to myself: I'll do my best to make sure he does.

  After all, what could possibly be simpler? The next day I would have my powers back, and the boy with ginger hair and freckles would follow Natasha around, gazing at her with eyes filled with genuine love. Why shouldn't I give my best donor a little happiness?

  "What were you dreaming about?" I asked.

  "Something horrible," the girl answered briefly. "I can't honestly remember. But it was something really, really horrible!"

  "About your younger brother?" I asked.

  Natasha wrinkled up her forehead. Then she replied: "I don't remember… But how did you know I have a younger brother?"

  I smiled mysteriously and stretched out on the sand. Everything was all right. The dream had been extracted completely.