Dancing With Bears - Michael Swanwick [83]
Then, having done his bit for morale, Yevgeny assumed a rigid stance and spun on his heel, all officer once more. It was important to loosen discipline now and again. But it must never reach the point of outright familiarity.
So he stood apart from the others, listening to the silence. Lubyanskaya ploschad’ was lined with commercial businesses and prisons, which meant that however festive the rest of Moscow might be, this area was utterly dead. Not a single pedestrian disturbed the stillness. The night was cold and the city felt wrong to him.
Yevgeny shivered, and wished that Arkady were here with him. It was going to be a long, long night and, knowing what was going on in every bedroom in Moscow, he was absolutely certain it was going to be a lonely one.
But not a quarter-hour later, he was astonished when three dark figures rode into the square on horseback: General Magdalena Zvyozdny-Gorodoka with her famous red hair, Baron Lukoil-Gazprom, and a woman muffled head-to-foot in winter clothes who had the absolute best posture Yevgeny had ever seen.
“Lieutenant Tupelov-Uralmash,” the general said when salutes had been exchanged. “On duty and looking alert, as usual, I see.”
“I’m damnably glad somebody is,” the baron said. “Nine-tenths of our artillery is—”
“Hush. The condition of the army is my business, just as the condition of Gun Three is the lieutenant’s.” The general had been scanning Yevgeny’s crew. Now a quizzical tone entered her voice. “Do you have a mixed team, Lieutenant?”
Yevgeny, who well understood why gun crews were normally single-gender, blushed. “Two of my men were under the weather, ma’am. So I had to improvise.”
The general nodded solemnly. “While normally I frown upon improvisation, tonight is not a normal time. You are encouraged to maintain that same flexibility when the troubles start. In the meantime, keep a sharp eye out.” She wheeled her horse about, and said to the baron, “Now let’s see what else remains of our forces.”
“Precious little, I’m guessing,” the baron grumbled.
“But, ma’am!” Yevgeny cried. “Sir! Exactly what are we looking for?”
“I have no idea,” the general said over her shoulder.
“Nor do I,” the baron said. “But this I guarantee: Whatever it is, you’ll know it when you see it.”
The unidentified woman studied Yevgeny solemnly and, soldier though he was, he found himself trembling in atavistic fear. It was like stepping into a jungle clearing and suddenly being confronted by a tiger. Then she flicked the reins of her horse and was gone, after her illustrious compeers.
Arkady returned to the New Metropol in a state of dejection. The last dozen places he had gone to, he had been turned away. The masters and mistresses of the house were engaged, he was told, and from the sighs and laughter he heard from the interior, he was certain this was so. There were signs also that the servants had scavenged the leavings of their masters’ drugs and would themselves soon be similarly engaged. Everybody, it seemed, was enjoying the fun but he.
He found the three stranniks sitting happily in oxblood-red leather armchairs, facing a small table on which flickered three candles. They were drinking glasses of hot tea and discussing theology.
“There,” said Chernobog, “is a perfect model for the triune nature of the Divine. Each flame is separate, but when we push the candles together—” all three stranniks leaned forward to do so—“their flames merge into one, intermingled and indivisible, and yet after all, still three flames for all of that.”
Svarožič reverently stroked the triune flame with his forefinger, and then kissed the new blister that arose on its tip.
“Your metaphor is comprehensible,” said Koschei, “and therefore it is not ineffable, and therefore it does not describe God. If one were to say that the flame comprises spirit and essence and being, one would come closer to the truth, for the mind can intuit that the words contain some meaning, but not what that meaning might be. Such is the majesty of the One, and the simplicity of the Three.” Then, without looking away from