The Night Watch by Sergei Lukyanenko, Sergei Luk'ianenko Page A
Authors: Sergei Lukyanenko, Sergei Luk'ianenko
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy, Thrillers, Vampires, Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), General & Literary Fiction, Occult, Fantasy fiction; Russian, Science fiction; Russian
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spotted the catch. "Alisa, thank you for your offer of a peaceful resolution. I can accept it, but in a similar situation I promise to forgive you a minor magical intervention, up to and including the seventh degree."
"Very well, Other," Alisa agreed readily. She held out her hand and I automatically shook it. "We have a personal agreement."
The owl on my shoulder flapped its wings. There was a furious screech right in my ear. And a moment later the bird materialized in the Twilight world.
Alisa took a step back and the pupils of her eyes rapidly extended into vertical slits. The young warlock took up a defensive posture.
"We have an agreement," the witch repeated sullenly.
What was going on?
I realized too late that I shouldn't have entered into an agreement with Olga there. But then—what was so terrible about what had happened? As if I hadn't been there when other guys from the Watch had concluded alliances like this, made concessions, agreed to terms for cooperating with the Dark Ones; even the boss himself had done it! Sure, it's undesirable, but sometimes you have to do it!
Page 36
Our goal is not to exterminate the Dark Ones. Our goal is to maintain the balance. The Dark Ones will disappear only when human beings conquer the Evil in themselves. Or we'll disappear, if they decide they like the Darkness better than the Light.
"The agreement's been made," I told the owl. "Cool it. It's no big deal. Just standard collaboration." Alisa smiled and gave me a wave. She took the warlock by the elbow, and they moved away. A couple of moments later they were out of the Twilight and setting off along the sidewalk. An ordinary young couple.
"What's eating you?" I asked. "Well? Field work has always been built on compromises!"
"You made a mistake."
Olga's voice was strange; it didn't match her appearance. It was soft, velvety, musical. The way werecats talk, not birds.
"Oho! So you can talk now?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you say anything before?"
"Everything was okay before."
I laughed, remembering the old joke about the child who didn't speak for years.
"I'll leave the Twilight, okay? And meanwhile you can explain what mistake I've made. Minor compromises with the Dark Ones ate inevitable in this line of work."
"You're not well-enough qualified to make compromises."
The world around me turned colored. It was like switching modes in a video camera, when you change from "sepia" or "old movie" to the standard view. The comparison is really quite apt in some ways: The Twilight is an "old movie," a really old one that humankind has managed to forget. It finds it easier to live that way.
I set off toward the steps down into the metro, snarling to my invisible companion on the way:
"And just what have qualifications got to do with it?"
"A high-ranking Watch member is able to foresee the consequences of a compromise. Whether it's no more than just a minor bilateral trade-off and the effects will be self-neutralizing, or a trap, a trick—and you'll lose out."
"I doubt if a seventh-grade intervention's likely to lead to disaster!" A man walking along beside me glanced at me in surprise. I was just about to tell him something like:
"I'm harmless, the non-violent kind of psycho." It's a great way of curing excessive curiosity. But the man had already sped up; he must have come to a similar conclusion himself.
Page 37
"Anton, you can't anticipate the consequences. You over-reacted to a minor annoyance. Your little piece of magic led to intervention by the Dark Ones. You agreed to a compromise with them. But the saddest thing of all is that there was no need for magical intervention in the first place."
"Okay, okay, I admit it. So now what?"
The bird's voice was sounding more lifelike now, developing more expression. I supposed it must have been a long time since she'd last spoken.
"Now—nothing. We'll have to hope for the best."
"Are you going to tell the boss what happened?"
"No. At least, not yet. We're
"Very well, Other," Alisa agreed readily. She held out her hand and I automatically shook it. "We have a personal agreement."
The owl on my shoulder flapped its wings. There was a furious screech right in my ear. And a moment later the bird materialized in the Twilight world.
Alisa took a step back and the pupils of her eyes rapidly extended into vertical slits. The young warlock took up a defensive posture.
"We have an agreement," the witch repeated sullenly.
What was going on?
I realized too late that I shouldn't have entered into an agreement with Olga there. But then—what was so terrible about what had happened? As if I hadn't been there when other guys from the Watch had concluded alliances like this, made concessions, agreed to terms for cooperating with the Dark Ones; even the boss himself had done it! Sure, it's undesirable, but sometimes you have to do it!
Page 36
Our goal is not to exterminate the Dark Ones. Our goal is to maintain the balance. The Dark Ones will disappear only when human beings conquer the Evil in themselves. Or we'll disappear, if they decide they like the Darkness better than the Light.
"The agreement's been made," I told the owl. "Cool it. It's no big deal. Just standard collaboration." Alisa smiled and gave me a wave. She took the warlock by the elbow, and they moved away. A couple of moments later they were out of the Twilight and setting off along the sidewalk. An ordinary young couple.
"What's eating you?" I asked. "Well? Field work has always been built on compromises!"
"You made a mistake."
Olga's voice was strange; it didn't match her appearance. It was soft, velvety, musical. The way werecats talk, not birds.
"Oho! So you can talk now?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you say anything before?"
"Everything was okay before."
I laughed, remembering the old joke about the child who didn't speak for years.
"I'll leave the Twilight, okay? And meanwhile you can explain what mistake I've made. Minor compromises with the Dark Ones ate inevitable in this line of work."
"You're not well-enough qualified to make compromises."
The world around me turned colored. It was like switching modes in a video camera, when you change from "sepia" or "old movie" to the standard view. The comparison is really quite apt in some ways: The Twilight is an "old movie," a really old one that humankind has managed to forget. It finds it easier to live that way.
I set off toward the steps down into the metro, snarling to my invisible companion on the way:
"And just what have qualifications got to do with it?"
"A high-ranking Watch member is able to foresee the consequences of a compromise. Whether it's no more than just a minor bilateral trade-off and the effects will be self-neutralizing, or a trap, a trick—and you'll lose out."
"I doubt if a seventh-grade intervention's likely to lead to disaster!" A man walking along beside me glanced at me in surprise. I was just about to tell him something like:
"I'm harmless, the non-violent kind of psycho." It's a great way of curing excessive curiosity. But the man had already sped up; he must have come to a similar conclusion himself.
Page 37
"Anton, you can't anticipate the consequences. You over-reacted to a minor annoyance. Your little piece of magic led to intervention by the Dark Ones. You agreed to a compromise with them. But the saddest thing of all is that there was no need for magical intervention in the first place."
"Okay, okay, I admit it. So now what?"
The bird's voice was sounding more lifelike now, developing more expression. I supposed it must have been a long time since she'd last spoken.
"Now—nothing. We'll have to hope for the best."
"Are you going to tell the boss what happened?"
"No. At least, not yet. We're
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