Sixth Watch by Sergei Lukyanenko Page A

“We’ve had enough, Great Ones. You’ve been toying with us, keeping us in the dark for a long time . . . both of you. Now you’re going to switch on the lights—or we’ll handle our own problems for ourselves.”
    â€œWhat happened to the bodyguards?” I asked. “Who is that vampire and why did she come to our rescue? Why were you Great and Wise Ones afraid to show your faces?”
    Gesar and Zabulon looked at each other.
    â€œGo ahead,” said Gesar. “You’re better at telling the truth.”
    Zabulon nodded. He rested his gaze on Nadya for an instant—as if he was hesitating whether to speak in front of her. But he didn’t try to send her out.
    â€œWe have a crisis, Anton. The most serious crisis for the last two . . . the most serious crisis I can remember, and I can remember a lot of things.”
    â€œMore serious than the Tiger?” I asked doubtfully.
    â€œAn hour ago all the Prophets and all the Higher Seers proclaimed exactly the same prophecy,” said Zabulon.
    â€œWhich Prophets and Seers?” I asked abruptly. “The Dark Ones?”
    â€œThe Dark Ones. The Light Ones. What difference does that make, anyway?” Zabulon asked with an ironic smile.
    â€œThat’s exactly when I called for help . . .” I said, suddenly catching on.
    â€œNo. Slightly earlier. Exactly when the bloody battle began around the school attended by the Absolute Enchantress.”
    â€œI see,” I said with a nod. “That means when I made my appeal for help, the Light Ones were already trying to make sense of the prophecy. And the Dark Ones too. And the operational HQs were probably working on their own, while Gesar and Zabulon discussed what was happening in private . . . ah, but no. Gesar asked Zabulon where he was . . . What’s the extent of the prophecy? Moscow? The district? The region?” I asked, suddenly transfixed by an ominous presentiment.
    â€œYou weren’t listening properly,” Gesar said abruptly. “And I’ve told you more than once before—forget about that human geography.”
    â€œAll of them, Anton,” said Zabulon. “All the Other Prophets and all the Higher Other Seers. Every single one in the world. It’s a good thing there aren’t many of them.”
    I licked my dry lips. All of us have some prophetic ability. In the crudest form, it’s “calculating a probability,” when even a weak Other (sometimes uninitiated) knows where there’s going to be a traffic jam on the road, or which plane he shouldn’t get on.
    For Higher Others—including even me—it becomes possible to foresee the probability of a certain event. The important thing here is to understand in advance what events have any probability of occurring at all . . .
    Seers see the future constantly. Even when they’re not consciously aware of it. Their world is a shimmering mishmash of the probabilities of human history. In this mishmash Ukraine fights Russia for the Crimea, President Obama converts to Islam, the pope comes outof the closet, and the Netherlands legalizes cannibalism for medical purposes.
    And even far less likely events are also real for Seers.
    The only thing the Seers can’t perceive is the fate of Others. All of us who walk in the Twilight are hidden from them. Our lives and our actions are not so easy to read.
    It’s the Prophets who see us.
    They see absolutely everything. Fortunately not all the time and usually not deliberately. You can’t ask a Prophet to see something specific—the Prophet himself decides (or maybe the Twilight decides for him) what he will see and how he will inform the world.
    â€œWhat is foretold?” I asked, not even surprised by the old-fashioned phrase that had flown off my tongue. At that moment it was appropriate.
    â€œIt was not spilled in vain, nor burned to no purpose. The first time has come. The Two shall