The demons’ nest had been destroyed but Ashley and Thaler still had a long way to go or, to be more precise, to run. The hospital where Irwin was stranded in a no man’s land between life and death stood ten miles away from their current location. Somehow, they had to make their way there. Communications were dead and electric transport had been halted, so the only means of conveyance they could rely on was their own feet. They started running along the street but were soon slowed down and had to claw their way through a crowd.
The notorious lord was a tall skinny old man dressed in an elegant black dinner jacket. He had a narrow face that was perched on a long wrinkled neck and featured a massive hooked nose, thin bloodless lips and the deep-set piercing eyes of a vulture with a proud gaze but also an appetite for carrion. His sparse yellowish hair was slicked back neatly along the skull.
‘It was a weird conversation.’ Thaler, clumsily, tried to pick up a bunch of noodles with a pair of chopsticks, ‘We didn’t tell each other what we thought, and what we did say we didn’t actually think. But, I’ve got the instructions and a very helpful gadget to make our hopeless mission a little bit more cheerful.’ He put the sticks aside. ‘I think I’ll ask for a fork.’
Ashley stood near the stove, all her attention focused on her phone screen.
‘I just talked to my mother,’ she said in a strained voice. ‘Dad is in hospital. He fell into a coma. She said the doctors are checking him.’ She gazed at Thaler. ‘Do you think he was safe?’
Pain — it was the first thing Thaler felt; it was nauseating, piercing, excruciating. It pulsed in his temples and ached in his back. He couldn’t feel his arms or his legs. A ridiculous image of a blind, limbless, cave-dwelling reptile tumbled into his mind. But he thought, therefore he was; and so was his pain. They both existed.
Irvin was right — he couldn’t miss her. Her red mane was like a beacon in the colourless multitude thronging around the arrival area. Dressed in a dark-blue sports jacket, with a beaming smile on her face, she was looking for him in the wrong direction. A new wave of passengers gushed out of the arrivals gate and dispersed across the hall, looking for their welcome parties — excited loved ones, apathetic drivers with nameplates and optimistic lawyers clutching thick briefcases.
The pilot rest cabin was small but comfortable. There was a berth straight in front of him, a tiny table and a cosy armchair on his right and a narrow door that led into a small bathroom on his left.
Lizzy was standing in the middle of the cabin with her bare feet on a shaggy beige carpet. She wore the same uniform but in a much more relaxed manner. The upper buttons of her jacket were undone, revealing a considerable portion of her cleavage. Her skirt had lost as much as half its length and her stockings had evaporated. Her high-heeled shoes had been tossed in the corner.
In a flash, all eyes, cameras and phones in the building were directed at a group of uniformed people walking briskly down the hall.
The Magnificent Seven — the two pilots and five stewardesses who made up the Glambird team — were pacing the shiny floor in perfect formation. They were tall, fit and good-looking. The girls wore tight blue jackets and skirts, stylish field caps, and red neckerchiefs. They walked confidently on sky-high heels with beaming smiles as they waved at the adoring crowd. The pilots marched slightly ahead of the ladies. They were dressed in peaked caps with crisp dark-blue suits and looked stern but friendly. Their passage through the hall looked more like a top fashion event rather than a routine pre-boarding procedure. All the members of the team seemed pleased to have the public’s attention, all of them, except one.
‘I need lots of booze to wash this nightmare from my memory,’ said Irvin after a big gulp of beer. ‘But a promise is a promise: no more than two pints in one sitting.’ He banged his pint pot on the table and stared at Thaler. His companion was hunched silently over a thin and pale — like himself — glass of lager. Having got no response, Irvin turned his eyes upon the crowd.
‘Well done, Sergeant! See you at the office.’ Irvin bid a hasty goodbye to the overzealous junior, who had been tailing him all around the building, and then rushed down the wide stairway to the ground floor. The massive front door, which was covered in cracks, had been flung far into the building and was lying at the foot of the stairway. Stone fragments were scattered all over the place, and a few cops armed with headcams and flashlights were snooping around in the dark hallway. Irvin strode hastily across the rubble and headed to the gaping breach where the door had once stood.
‘With half the city in his pocket, he could’ve found a better way to die,’ said Inspector Irvin as he leant over the corpse that lay sprawled on the floor in a wan patch of light.
‘And, I bet, a better time.’
This voice belonged to a tall, lean figure that stood alone by the window, looking out at the incessant rain. His black glossy mac seemed a rather expensive choice for getting around in such weather. The inspector’s outfit, though, was simple: a flat cap and pea-coat — both of a dark colour. He was a sturdy man who looked more like a bouncer than a senior investigator. Leaning in even further, Irvin cocked his head to the side to get a better look at the corpse’s neck.
We all remember that breathtaking footage of the Apollo 11 mission, where Armstrong, bum first, stepped down a shaky ladder, trying hard to recall the epic phrase he was meant to deliver. Of course, that event had been preceded by the successful landing of the lunar module a while before, again, bum first. Although I would easily join the adoring chorus, my personal attitude toward those events is a bit complicated.
While working on this story, I found it absolutely necessary to represent some basic facts about Siberia — that magnificent land where I was born and happily spent 29 years, 6 hours and 15 seconds before leaving at the end of the 1990s. Since then, I have settled in a new place and started, little by little, to explore the world. I discovered myriads of amazing things, among which was the fact that to this day many people across the globe still see Siberia as terra incognita — cold and hostile, dotted with prisoner camps. Well, although you can find such places, particularly above the Arctic Circle, the main part of Siberia looks like a pretty healthy place, inhabited by bipedal human beings and domesticated animals, where you will see airports, laundries, vegan restaurants, chiropractic offices, Pastafarian churches, and many other bits of the modern world.