please. I have little strength left. And the final battle is coming nearer . . . And everyone’s future depends on its outcome. Yours too!” You get it? The old man was begging for food. That’s your magician, I’d say. Also, lost some marbles, I’d say. But for another reason.’
‘You’re a total fool! You didn’t even listen to the ending . . . and anyway, who told you that the old guy was lying? What was his name, by the way? Did your stepfather tell you?’
‘He told me, but I don’t remember it exactly. Some kind of funny name. Starts with a “Chu.” Could it be Chum - or Chump? . . . Bums often have some kind of funny nickname instead of a real name. And what - what was the name of your magician?’
‘He told Lekha that they call him Carlos now. Because of the similarity. I don’t know what he meant but that’s how he explained it. But you should listen to the end of the story. At the end of their conversation, he told Lekha that it’s best not to go through the northern tunnel - though Lekha was preparing to go back the next day. Lekha listened to him and didn’t go. And he was right. That day some thugs attacked a caravan in the tunnel between Sukharevskaya and Prospect Mir even though it had been considered safe. Half of the traders were killed. The rest barely managed to fight them off. So there!’
Artyom went quiet and sank into thought.
‘Well, generally speaking, it’s impossible to know. Anything can happen. Things like that used to happen, that’s what my stepfather said. And he also said that at the most distant stations, where people have gone wild and have become primitive, they’ve forgotten that man is a rational being, and the strangest things happen - things that our logical minds wouldn’t be able to explain. He didn’t go into it, though. And he wasn’t even telling it to me - I just overheard by accident.’
‘Ha! I’m telling you: sometimes they describe things that normal people just wouldn’t believe. Last time, Lekha shared another story with me . . . Want to hear it? You won’t have heard this one from your stepfather, I tell you. A trader from the Serpukhovskaya line told it to Lekha . . . So, do you believe in ghosts?’
‘Well . . . every time I talk to you I start to wonder if I believe in them or not. But then when I’m on my own or with other people I come back to my senses,’ Artyom replied, barely managing to hold back a smile.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Well, I’ve read some things, of course. And Uncle Sasha has told me a lot of stories. But, if I’m honest, then I don’t really believe in all these stories. In general, Zhenya, I don’t really understand you. Here at the station, we’re living an unending nightmare with these dark ones - something you don’t find in any other part of the metro, I bet. Somewhere in the centre of the metro system there are kids talking about our life here, telling scary stories and asking each other: “Do you believe the tales about the dark ones or not?” And to you that means nothing. You want to scare yourself with yet more things?’
‘Yeah but don’t tell me that you’re only interested in things you can see and feel? You don’t really think that the world is organized into things you can see and hear? Take a mole, for example. It doesn’t see. It’s blind from birth. But that doesn’t mean that all the things that the mole doesn’t see don’t actually exist. That’s what you’re saying . . .’>
‘OK, so what’s the story you wanted to tell me? About the trader up at the Serpukhovskaya line?’
‘About the trader? Well . . . Somehow Lekha met this one guy at the market there. He, I guess, was definitely not from Serpukhovskaya. He’s from the Ring. He’s a citizen of the Hansa, but he lives at Dobryninskaya. Over there, they have a passage to Serpukhovskaya. On the line, I don’t know if your stepfather told you, but there’s no one living beyond the Ring - that is, until the next
‘You’re a total fool! You didn’t even listen to the ending . . . and anyway, who told you that the old guy was lying? What was his name, by the way? Did your stepfather tell you?’
‘He told me, but I don’t remember it exactly. Some kind of funny name. Starts with a “Chu.” Could it be Chum - or Chump? . . . Bums often have some kind of funny nickname instead of a real name. And what - what was the name of your magician?’
‘He told Lekha that they call him Carlos now. Because of the similarity. I don’t know what he meant but that’s how he explained it. But you should listen to the end of the story. At the end of their conversation, he told Lekha that it’s best not to go through the northern tunnel - though Lekha was preparing to go back the next day. Lekha listened to him and didn’t go. And he was right. That day some thugs attacked a caravan in the tunnel between Sukharevskaya and Prospect Mir even though it had been considered safe. Half of the traders were killed. The rest barely managed to fight them off. So there!’
Artyom went quiet and sank into thought.
‘Well, generally speaking, it’s impossible to know. Anything can happen. Things like that used to happen, that’s what my stepfather said. And he also said that at the most distant stations, where people have gone wild and have become primitive, they’ve forgotten that man is a rational being, and the strangest things happen - things that our logical minds wouldn’t be able to explain. He didn’t go into it, though. And he wasn’t even telling it to me - I just overheard by accident.’
‘Ha! I’m telling you: sometimes they describe things that normal people just wouldn’t believe. Last time, Lekha shared another story with me . . . Want to hear it? You won’t have heard this one from your stepfather, I tell you. A trader from the Serpukhovskaya line told it to Lekha . . . So, do you believe in ghosts?’
‘Well . . . every time I talk to you I start to wonder if I believe in them or not. But then when I’m on my own or with other people I come back to my senses,’ Artyom replied, barely managing to hold back a smile.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Well, I’ve read some things, of course. And Uncle Sasha has told me a lot of stories. But, if I’m honest, then I don’t really believe in all these stories. In general, Zhenya, I don’t really understand you. Here at the station, we’re living an unending nightmare with these dark ones - something you don’t find in any other part of the metro, I bet. Somewhere in the centre of the metro system there are kids talking about our life here, telling scary stories and asking each other: “Do you believe the tales about the dark ones or not?” And to you that means nothing. You want to scare yourself with yet more things?’
‘Yeah but don’t tell me that you’re only interested in things you can see and feel? You don’t really think that the world is organized into things you can see and hear? Take a mole, for example. It doesn’t see. It’s blind from birth. But that doesn’t mean that all the things that the mole doesn’t see don’t actually exist. That’s what you’re saying . . .’>
‘OK, so what’s the story you wanted to tell me? About the trader up at the Serpukhovskaya line?’
‘About the trader? Well . . . Somehow Lekha met this one guy at the market there. He, I guess, was definitely not from Serpukhovskaya. He’s from the Ring. He’s a citizen of the Hansa, but he lives at Dobryninskaya. Over there, they have a passage to Serpukhovskaya. On the line, I don’t know if your stepfather told you, but there’s no one living beyond the Ring - that is, until the next
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