Dmitry Glukhovsky - Metro 2034 English fan translation (v1.0) (docx) by Dmitry Glukhovsky Page B
Authors: Dmitry Glukhovsky
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disastrous and tense silence. Sure: Even at a totally unknown
station Hunter could feel dangers that waited for them hundredths of meters in advance. But was it possible that his intuition would leave him exactly here, here were at least a dozen experienced fighters had suffered the same fate?
Approaching the Nagatin s kaya he hoped he would have the solution for all the secrets … Homer struggled to keep his thoughts together because they ran to fast.
Still, he tried to think about what waited for them at the station that he had once loved so much. The myth gatherer imagined that the legendary satanic legation had emerged at the Nagatinskaya or that the inhabitants had been eaten by migrating rats on their way for food through the tunnels that humans couldn’t pass through. Even if Homer would have been alone he wouldn’t have turned around for anything in the world. In all these years at the Sevastopolskaya he had forgotten to fear death. When he had embarked on this journey he had known that it could be his last journey and he was ready to sacrifice his remaining time for it.
A mere half an hour after the encounter with the monsters of the Nagornaya they had become the horrors of his memories.
Even more, while he listened to his thoughts, he felt faint movement in the deeps of his soul: Somewhere deep
down inside him something had been created or awoken, the thing that he had wanted so much. That what he had searched for on his dangerous adventures, that which he had never been able to find at home …
Now he had a real reason to delay death with all his power. He would allow it after his work was done.
The last war had been more brutal than all that had come before it and it had only taken a few days. Since the Second World War three generations had passed, the last veterans had died and the living didn’t fear war anymore. The collective insanity that had robbed millions of humans of their humanity had once again become a simple political instrument.
The fatal game had become more like routine with every day that had passed and in the end there was no more time to make the right decision. The ban of using atomic weapons was dropped under the table in the heat of the fight:
In the first act of the drama they had hung their rifle on the wall and in the one before the last they had actually fired it. It didn’t matter who had pulled the trigger first anymore.
All big cities on the earth were turned into ashes and rubble at the same time. Even the few that had an anti-rocket shield were destroyed; they remained intact from the outside but radiation, chemical and biological weapons killed the majority of the population instantly. The unstable radio transmission between the few survivors ended after a few years. From that moment the world had ended for the inhabitants of the metro and neighboring lines.
While before the earth had been explored and colonized now it had returned to the borderless ocean of chaos and oblivion of ancient times. The small islands of civilization sank into the depths, one after another, without oil or power humanity returned to the Stone Age.
An age of terror began.
For century’s scientist have tried to return history from its almost destroyed papyri, parchments and foliants. With the invention of the press newspapers have continued to weave the fabric of history. And then the chronics of the last centuries almost no longer had any gaps in it: Almost every gesture, every move of those who controlled the world had been carefully documented.
Now the presses of the world had been destroyed with a single blow, or they had been abandoned. The looms of
history stood still. In a world without a future they were no longer needed. The shreds of this fabric were only held together by a single, thin thread.
In the first years after the disaster Nikolai Ivanowitsch had tried to find his family in the overcrowded stations. It had been in vain. He had abandoned all hope already but
station Hunter could feel dangers that waited for them hundredths of meters in advance. But was it possible that his intuition would leave him exactly here, here were at least a dozen experienced fighters had suffered the same fate?
Approaching the Nagatin s kaya he hoped he would have the solution for all the secrets … Homer struggled to keep his thoughts together because they ran to fast.
Still, he tried to think about what waited for them at the station that he had once loved so much. The myth gatherer imagined that the legendary satanic legation had emerged at the Nagatinskaya or that the inhabitants had been eaten by migrating rats on their way for food through the tunnels that humans couldn’t pass through. Even if Homer would have been alone he wouldn’t have turned around for anything in the world. In all these years at the Sevastopolskaya he had forgotten to fear death. When he had embarked on this journey he had known that it could be his last journey and he was ready to sacrifice his remaining time for it.
A mere half an hour after the encounter with the monsters of the Nagornaya they had become the horrors of his memories.
Even more, while he listened to his thoughts, he felt faint movement in the deeps of his soul: Somewhere deep
down inside him something had been created or awoken, the thing that he had wanted so much. That what he had searched for on his dangerous adventures, that which he had never been able to find at home …
Now he had a real reason to delay death with all his power. He would allow it after his work was done.
The last war had been more brutal than all that had come before it and it had only taken a few days. Since the Second World War three generations had passed, the last veterans had died and the living didn’t fear war anymore. The collective insanity that had robbed millions of humans of their humanity had once again become a simple political instrument.
The fatal game had become more like routine with every day that had passed and in the end there was no more time to make the right decision. The ban of using atomic weapons was dropped under the table in the heat of the fight:
In the first act of the drama they had hung their rifle on the wall and in the one before the last they had actually fired it. It didn’t matter who had pulled the trigger first anymore.
All big cities on the earth were turned into ashes and rubble at the same time. Even the few that had an anti-rocket shield were destroyed; they remained intact from the outside but radiation, chemical and biological weapons killed the majority of the population instantly. The unstable radio transmission between the few survivors ended after a few years. From that moment the world had ended for the inhabitants of the metro and neighboring lines.
While before the earth had been explored and colonized now it had returned to the borderless ocean of chaos and oblivion of ancient times. The small islands of civilization sank into the depths, one after another, without oil or power humanity returned to the Stone Age.
An age of terror began.
For century’s scientist have tried to return history from its almost destroyed papyri, parchments and foliants. With the invention of the press newspapers have continued to weave the fabric of history. And then the chronics of the last centuries almost no longer had any gaps in it: Almost every gesture, every move of those who controlled the world had been carefully documented.
Now the presses of the world had been destroyed with a single blow, or they had been abandoned. The looms of
history stood still. In a world without a future they were no longer needed. The shreds of this fabric were only held together by a single, thin thread.
In the first years after the disaster Nikolai Ivanowitsch had tried to find his family in the overcrowded stations. It had been in vain. He had abandoned all hope already but
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