The Nuclear Fortress, page 15
“What Uncle?” the physicist-engineer asks not being very happy. “Or do you call the superiors in such a way, Buyros? Is it your figurative name for them?”
The nuclear engineer actually fawns on him, addressing him without using “Mr”. He must be making amends for the wrong. He must be regretting that he told about his being so needed and untouchable for the imperial pursuers.
“Why figurative?” Byuros-Ut asks. “I was speaking about my real Uncle.”
“And who is he?” Chirini asks definitely without any special interest.
“He is Darest-Khi. Have you heard about him?”
“That very Uncle Darest-Khi?” now he is sincerely interested.
“Well, yes, him!” the radioman-machine-gunner nods and at the same moment regrets that he said it.
What massaraksh made him reveal his family secret? It seems that he was looking unconsciously what card to beat the nuclear engineer with, the one who thought too much of himself. And what if they really get into the hands of the imperial counterintelligence? This bastard will tell at once that his companion has a relative practically in the General Staff Headquarters. Well! He has to somehow make a joke of it, to pretend that he lied just to boast about something.
“That's strange,” Chirini is surprised. “And why did you find yourself on such a dangerous mission then? Why didn't your Uncle arrange your transfer to some quieter place?”
Well, it seems that the on-board engineer did not believe him fully. However he started speaking more respectively. That is he made a note of the information. But there is no time to celebrate the little victory. Byuros is suddenly rooted to the spot and starts listening carefully.
“Tss!” he puts his finger to his lips.
The engineer turns into a stone on his right leg, then puts his left leg down very carefully. There is water definitely murmuring and babbling in the vicinity.
“A stream?” Chirini-Uk whispers.
Byuros does not answer him. He goes round some too thick bushes, goes through them when he sees some gap. That's right, there is a stream in the forest. That's certainly not bad. But aren't there too many of them?
“Do you remember, Chirini, which direction the previous one was running to?” he asks aloud.
“What do you mean?” the nuclear engineer really does not understand.
“What kind of massaraksh engineer are you, Chirini?” the radioman says unexpectedly angry. “Was it running from left to right or from right to left? In respect to us, certainly.”
“I somehow...” the physicist starts thinking. “Aha! We walked along it, trying to hide our tracks, didn't we? We walked with the current, so it means...”
Byuros-Ut understands that already without him. That stream was flowing in the opposite direction. Can it be that two streams in the vicinity of one another flow into different water basins? Let the World Light shine forever! Why do they add an actually useless engineer-bomb-aimer to the crew and not add someone who can get his bearings and has a good sense of direction?
“It seems to me that we are...”
He bites his tongue and shuts his mouth.
“Did we lose our way?” the experts in nuclear charges asks worriedly.
“It seems like that,” Byuros-Ut nods. “I can be mistaken, surely, but we cannot rule out that this is the same one.”
They are certainly speaking about the stream.
*
19.
The imperial destroyer Gidiyorum was sailing the ocean at snail speed. That was in contrast with its name translated as the Leader, but that was necessary. If required, the ship could speed up really strong. But if your aim is to look for submarines, your speed is of use only from time to time, but there is no use in making noise. In general you have to sail very quietly in order for the hydroacoustic experts inside not to shrug their shoulders, saying, “What can I do, massaraksh? Nothing can be heard because of our turbine.” So the ship sailed very quietly in order for the acoustic experts on board not to have any explanations like “Well, I do not know, Captain-Hunter. There was nothing within that range, no such noise.” They had to watch and listen carefully. Anything could happen, couldn't it? The ocean took too much space of the World Sphere – it could not be broader. One has to watch it all the time.
Several dozens years ago one of the coalitions, which disintegrated long ago, announced an initiative to have the so-called “territorial waters”. Like, all the countries should at once establish how many kilometers of the water area from the shore are to belong to this or that state. Well, in order to finally decide who and when can be legally drowned. The initiative was not passed. First, what does “all countries” mean? There are countries on the World Sphere which do not have their Navy. Or it consists of two wooden boats which are two hundred years old together. What then? To have the sea and sea bottom fixed with those who do not know how to use them? There has been a simple and tried in practice law from time immemorial: “If you cannot keep it, give it away.” So the initiative was not passed. After all, they still cannot divide the land in the vicinity of the equator – they are already surveying with the help of tactical nuclear ammunition — and they decided to “legally fix” the water surface. That makes one laugh!
And so it was impossible to decide whose water area the Gidiyorum was crawling in at the moment. The water area of several hundred kilometers from the continental part of the Empire was considered dangerous from the submarine point of view. The ship was in it now. And it was moving stealthily not without a reason. One of the warrant officers, experts in acoustics on board, caught some unusual sound not long ago. That is the noise was identified as mechanic and not as made by some stray whale, however, the type of mechanism did not coincide with any known. As there was nothing floating on the surface of the sea surrounding them everywhere, the sound could only come exclusively from some submarine. One hundred per cent that it was not an imperial submarine. But whose?
The crew of the patrolling destroyer was to be well-awarded for pushing enemy underwater boats farther into the ocean and especially for annihilating them. Because of that the crew of the ship staunchly endured deprivations caused by the prohibition to play domino, table tennis and other entertainments which require some objects noisily hitting other objects. There was only one thing left – to stake from the future bonuses at the number of the torpedo or the depth charge which will kill the insolent submarine. For some reason most staked on the “one hundred and twenty” in case of depth charges and “five” in case of torpedoes. No one had the courage to put on “one”. The men were too experienced for that.
*
20.
They had to take off socks again and walk in the stream. In the sense, along its bed. Byuros-Ut insisted on that. If the pursuers start following them with the dogs, it is possible that this simple measure will save them. Why should they break the tradition established by them several hours ago? Now they walked in the stream in the opposite direction. The radioman-machine-gunner had a silly idea while splashing in cold water. Maybe they should go on and on in such a way. The stream will surely take them to some local river. The river in its turn, no matter how it twists and turns, will take them to something more full-flowing and deep. That river will take them to the next one. And they will finally get to the ocean. And everything is simple with the ocean. You have to go to the south, and sooner or later – well, after several kingdoms-metropolises and kingdoms-colonies – they may get to their native Noyui. Certainly, one life may not be enough for that. But who knows?
The hypothesis was in any case unchecked. They had to say good-buy to the stream. According to Byuros's estimations, it was a too good a landmark for the pursuers. Nuclear engineer Chirini-Uk certainly mumbled something against it, but what could he offer as an alternative? So they went in a new direction. And approximately in an hour and a half – they had to get rid of the chronometers with the labels of their Kingdom – they were suddenly lucky.
A village appeared in that very forest. And it was not just a village but an abandoned village. They lay without moving for about fifteen minutes or more and looked at the houses. The houses were one-storied, small and looked unusual for them. The roofs were triangle and disproportionably high. The windows in some of them were broken. The fences were fallen somewhere. It could not be ruled out that some vehicles drove over them.
“We have to find something to eat and clothes are most important,” Byuros finally came to the simple logical conclusion.
“You are too clever,” Chirini-Uk commented. “And what if...”
“What 'if'?” the radioman-machine-gunner turned to him. “What if they are already looking for us? Can we walk much in our woolen socks? Besides, they are Army socks. Any “keeper” in the Empire will guess just looking at them that we are from the Army.”
The nuclear engineer sniffled displeased but what could he say?
Bending down, they stealthily came up to the nearest house. They looked into the window. To say it mildly, there was no order inside. Everything was scattered around like after a raid. But there were no traces of fire.
They decided not to go through the window. Why should they go to such extremes if it is possible to go through the door?
“Will there be clothes?” the military physicist asked. “What if they took everything with them?”
“You looked into the window together with me, didn't you?” Byuros was angry. “Did you see everything in its place?”
“How do you know, machine-gunner, if everything is in its place or...”
He fell silent. The door was opened wide. There was something unrecognizable lying on the threshold. The horrible smell hit their noses.
“What's that? Massaraksh!” the bomb master said.
“Ah!” Byuros-Ut guessed suddenly. “It's just a dog, it's dead.”
“Why did it die? And exactly on the threshold?” Chirini's voice was much different – he was holding his nose with his fingers.
“I am not a coroner, am I?” Byuros barked at him.
“Surely you are not,” Chirini-Uk nodded sarcastically. “You are just a machine-gunner.”
“I am a spy radioman,” Byuros-Ut informed him. He wanted very much to hit that expert in nuclear sciences in the face. But there was no time for that now.
He walked around the big dog, which was decomposed to a large extent. It was certainly clear that it did not die here itself. Someone helped it and it seemed with a large caliber.
“We act quickly and get farther on from here along the World Sphere,” he ordered, also holding his nose.
Everything was scattered inside. The inhabitants were is a mad hurry to get away from here. But could it be some robbers or some bandits' raid?
Byuros-Ut stepped over some rags. Then he turned round, made himself put his hand in them and search in the pile. No, there was nothing interesting here. In the sense that there were no clothes. He came up to a wardrobe decorated with some strange ornament he did not understand. All the doors were open. There was nothing on hangars. However, there was a whole pile below. What really happened here? Massaraksh!
“The trousers are just for you,” he joked showing the physicist his trophy.
“They are pajamas trousers!” It seemed that the physicist-engineer became very serious after seeing the dog.
“Why are you standing?” Byuros-Ut nearly roared at him. “Go on, search, dig! Am I a shop assistant for you?”
Finally Byuros found some trousers for himself. They were old-fashioned but the Northern Empire was a backward country on the whole. They may have such trousers in fashion now. While he was trying them on, the bomb master found a full box of old footwear in the corridor. Oh! That was even more important than trousers. There was anything you wanted, from boots to sneakers. There was even a lonely felt boot – one from a pair of valenki – with an overshoe. Who could have thought about it? Byuros-Ut did not remember well when they had snow for the last time in their Kingdom. But everything was much more serious here, in the Empire.
The nuclear master was for some reason enjoying the sight of dusty children's sandals. He was really moved by the sight of them. Byuros did not joke this time. Chirini could be nostalgic remembering his childhood, or... What does he really know about the on-board armourer? He may have enough children to fill a wagon. Byuros wanted to ask him about that directly but he was captured by trying the shoes on. The size was nearly his. Well, that was better than having splinters in his feet. Byuros even cleaned the leather of the first one with a sheet lying nearby. The shoe started shining.
“Did you think, Byuros, why the people left the village?” the bomb physicist asked suddenly and in a fairly friendly way.”
“Do you have a theory, Chirini?”
He was really not very interested but those walls which were as if protecting them from the open ground, were calming him dawn. Besides, the smell of the dead animal on the threshold did not reach them here because of some strange feature of the draft.
“I think that they were repressed by imperial 'keepers',” Chirini-Uk said. “You know how they treat their own people, don't you? They sometimes annihilate the whole villages. Or make them move somewhere.”
Ah! It would have been so wonderful to sleep here for several hours, Byuros-Ut dreamed. But we cannot do that. We have not gotten far.
“And what if they had some epidemic here?” the expert in mass destruction weapons had a new idea.
“And do you offer us to stay naked?” Byuros asked annoyed.
He has already won over his drowsiness and took another shoe in his hand – to clean it symmetrically.
“Well, I was saying that like an example,” the physicist explained. “But maybe they were just asked to move somewhere where there are air-raid shelters, there is war going on after all. Or just...”
At that moment it seemed to Byuros that he heard some strange sound outside.
“Tss,” he said going white.
“Did you like the fashion?” the expert in warheads winked at him.
“Shut up!” Byuros threatened him with the cleaned shoe. “Do you hear?”
He put the shoes down hurriedly, put them on and laced them.
“Is there someone there?” Chirini asked still fairly loudly.
The radioman-machine-gunner was ready to kill him. He stealthily and hurriedly came up to the door and looked out carefully. The dead dog smelled horribly but that was not the time to pay attention to it. Nothing changed by the house at first sight, though he did not study the surroundings very carefully. Then something creaked somewhere and it seemed that someone swore quietly.
We're leaving! he showed to the armourer with a gesture. But Chirini has not put the shoes on yet. That dawdler still has not found trousers for himself. It seemed that he has not chosen shoes to fit his size either.
“We are getting damn out of here” Byuros-Ut transmitted using his lips only and pointed at some sneakers with his eyes.
“And what about socks?” the physicist asked quietly.
“I'll kill you, dimwit!” Byuros-Ut whispered. “We are leaving! It's the hunt, massaraksh!”
The master armourer let go of the children's sandals. They fell making some sound, and the radioman's heart nearly jumped out of his breast. Adrenalin was already pumping in full.
He stepped over the dog, went down the steps and pressed his back to the wall just in case. Well, I have the shoes, I have the trousers, as for the shirt... Well, massaraksh with it. It's a good thing that I left my underwear in that pile. They may not pay attention to it here, he summed up the raid to the house. And by the way...
“Did you throw away your underwear made in our country?” he asked the armourer quietly. Chirini was trying to find the way without stepping on the decomposed dog: he was still barefoot. “Massaraksh! Take it off quickly! There, in the rags. Then no one will be able to prove that we are Army men.”
Massaraksh and massaraksh again! What am I to do with this trailer?
Byuros moved quietly to the corner of the building. He felt himself strange in shoes after so many hours of walking barefoot. Then he looked round the corner and froze in his new shoes.
There were two men with carbines stealthily walking along the neighbouring house behind the fence, not exactly in their direction but somewhere here. He hid his head at once. He was covered with sweat. He started moving backwards very carefully but as quickly as possible.
“And I am here already,” the nuclear bomb master said and it seemed so loud that Byuros-Ut's head nearly burst.
The physicist made a face looking at the dog out of the corner of his eye and it seemed that he was not in a hurry to lace the sneakers.
It seemed that it was useless and extra to try to hide any more.
“We go! They are there with rifles,” the radioman said quietly and ran to the neighbouring house without waiting for Chirini.
There was at least one house between him and the pursuers. If he and Chirini hurry up, they will manage to hide behind the next one while the enemies run round it. And after that, running small distances every time...
It is impossible to think and plan at the same time. The body chooses what you need more, and the heart pump sends the blood exactly there. Now the calves and ankles were much more important than cerebral hemispheres. His legs were already taking Byuros away. He helped himself a little with his hands and jumped over the fence half a man's height like a bit of fluff. The physicist tried to repeat this simple action somewhere behind him. The boards creaked, something cracked. Massaraksh! Byuros-Ut said to himself but he did not turn back. He is not a nurse, is he? He made only a dozen steps when he nearly reached the next structure, and he turned back on the way.
Glory to the World Light! The nuclear physicist was not hanging from the fence, with his yellow pajamas catching something. He was already breathing heavily after him, falling behind by just twenty or twenty five steps. However that was not the main thing. The two strangers in some gray uniform of the unknown to Byuros branch of the Armed Forces ran out from behind the house.
