A morning sunbeam danced a little on the windowsill and stopped on the blue wall-paper.
- Wake up, darling, or we’ll be late for work! – that was the voice of my wife Elena.
Like many others, I hated getting up early, but her tender voice instead of alarm ringing just made me disarmed.
We were an excellent couple. Although, her bonehead admirer often bothered my sweetie with heart-breaking messages saying she was the perfection of kindness and facile nature. He wanted her by hedge or by stile. But I didn’t move a muscle. Bitter jealousy is a fate of weak ones. Or is bitter jealousy a heavens’ gift into the bargain to great love? At the age of 33, I didn’t know the right answer. Trying like the devil not to part with the rest of my sleep I was wrapping the warm blanket around me and behaved like a grumbling bear.
Every morning I usually brought Elena to her university, and we kissed passionately. I wouldn’t like to describe nature and weather at those moments; I’d better leave it to Paustovsky and Tolstoy. We’ll certainly dispute in the afterlife. For me, the key word here is “kissed”.
On dropping my wife I, as already mentioned, made my way to work. I worked for Federal Security Guard Service and knew firsthand about authorities’ adultery and their being too well off. The first guard circle employees were direct bodyguards and had to escort Chief of State or Chief Executive in any circumstances including negotiations. I served for the second guard circle, meant for the top officials of the country. I was to backstop the guys from the first circle. And when some high-level meeting took place, I had to patrol close approaches to the residence or the meeting area. After and before working lunches I also had to look after servants and waiters while they were cleaning rooms or setting tables. Everything was bread-and-butter. Our life ran steadily like the Thames in London. No twists and turns, no adventures. Maybe, the life of an intellectual girl and a half-secret guard servant should be just that way. Though, as it usually happens, things changed unexpectedly.
One Saturday mid-September evening I and my friends gathered in a pub with a posh name “Kentukki”, on the occasion of our colleague’s promotion. Our uniform, due to the character of our job, hung generally in a cloakroom. It was even useful as, when you put it on twice a year, you could feel your belly or your biceps get bigger. That was a great day for the honoree. He sat solemnly, as the word is “in full dress”, his blue-black coat being not shabby with several badges and pair of medals. Three bored prostitutes in the bar took us for postmen celebrating their award; so they didn’t bother us. Well, with such challenging job collective drinking party was an extremely rare event for us. Now we could relax for the first time in several weeks and, what made it doubly pleasant, collectively. The meal was perfect, the alcohol was carrying away. I felt that a little more, and I’d hurry to WC to make friends with a bowl. The rest seven friends were sewed-up too, hardly made fun, moved even worse, but laughed and yelled up to the hilt. Toasts became a thing of the past, and, I bet, none of us could remember the occasion of that day’s party. Suddenly, Igor, the guard from “the first circle” who was sitting next to me bent down and whispered:
- You know, everyone here’s drunk, and I’m myself pissed as a newt. But there’s something that really can make drink. I know the information one can hardly take in when sober. There it is! Who, do you think, we guard and for whom do we organize top-secret meetings? Don’t know. What did I tell you! Fresh meat! You, do take a scotch tape and make fingerprints from glasses during some house keeping. I bet, you’ll be surprised!
That certainly got me guessing, and I gave up eating my tasty “Spanish salad” and waited for our talk to go on. I even mopped my mouth with a napkin and put the fork aside. But suddenly, Igor broke his drunk revelations, took a bleary glance at the social realm and started snoring peacefully without changing his sitting posture. Well, working as a guard he could make different tricks. And half an hour later, woken up to be taken home, he began to drivel of knowing all government secrets. My conscience told me it was not good to drink till all’s blue and mix reality with fantasy, and I went home after a while. Figured wall-paper in my bedroom swam, as ill luck would have it, I felt sick and made the one thousand five hundred sixty-ninth promise to myself not to drink any more. Not a drop!
The following morning brought nothing new but splitting headache and my wife’s reproachful look.
On Monday I went to work, as usual. That day was an outright unremarkable day excluding some ordinary meeting in the Kremlin. As is customary, I had to watch fourchette preparations in the dining-hall and then the approaches to the meeting area. Who met there and what they did, remained a puzzle to me. Maybe, it was President or ministers. I wasn’t accustomed to bother my head with things like that. I was incurious and impersonal like a bronze lion in a palace of Petersburg. And besides, more than once I saw those who, due to their curiosity, ended up in departments of internal investigations and had to evert their brains in front of “lie detector”. That’s why I preferred not to show off. Our service, I’ll repeat, was monotone, stultifying, and, of course, I took no scotch tape with me on Monday. But I took it on Tuesday. Just for a top-secret meeting. That time I was to patrol at some distance of all meeting areas. Security arrangements that day were unprecedented. So during the house keeping after the meeting I, after all, contrived and followed Igor’s advice. Beforehand at home I had prepared a wide piece of scotch and stuck it on a plastic card. The time came to use that “set piece”. I snatched the moment, unstuck the scotch and put it instantly to a glass standing near the chairs for special guests.
- Why was I so possessed to listen to that blockhead? - I thought of my colleague from “Kentukki”. And what if all his talks were jokes, and at the moment he was making secret filming of my dirty tricks and my discretion. It would be good if Igor just laughed at my actions then, but if our chiefs sense these manipulations, I’ll be taken off my service like a stopper. I bet my boots! It may even be a provocation, so to say, a test for loyalty and desire to nose out native secrets. I curdled in a brown study among huge tables and leather chairs not knowing what to do next. My face blushed red. For the first time I acted not in the interests of the state, but more likely contrary to them. Damned psychologists who trained us taught everything except proper story-telling without losing one’s nerve. They taught probably intelligence officers, but not us. So, that If we fuck something up, it’ll be easier to find it out. My thoughts were that way.
- Sink or swim, - my inner sense told me, and I took other four plastic cards with scotch stuck on them and made the above procedure with the other four glasses. So to say, in order to have the full “image of the day”. I care to do everything well and for certain. And if I’m fated to become a figure of fun, at least the provocateurs won’t say I chose the wrong glass. And there’ll be a good reason to smash the joker’s face in the end. He who laughs without consequences laughs best, I rephrased the common saying.
On leaving the hall I tried to conceal my emotional stress and behave as normally as I could for the rest of the day. Otherwise, I could give myself away, what would be even funnier in the end. You know, here in the Kremlin everywhere you look, you meet a secret agent drilled in psychology and shrewdness like a shark on blood.
On coming home I, with forced indifference, gave the pieces of scotch with fingerprints on them to Elena to carry out the corresponding analysis in her university lab. But the whole evening, I had to turn everything concerning the origin of the scotch into a joke.
- What is it, after all? Eh, darling? Answer to your sweetie! Oh, bad boy, tell the truth, where is it from? – normal woman’s curiosity came out.
- An Italian delegation. It got stuck to their ambassador’s shoe. If they also find out the shoe brand, I’ll buy me such shoes, - I parried as carelessly as I could.
The following days lasted in languishing succession. I and Elena were given to work and a little to each other. Everything was settled and quiet again. The leaves on the trees became gradually yellow and crumpled. They collapsed bashfully, as if they felt ashamed for the inevitably coming winter. And most of them fell down to feet as if apologizing.
But unexpectedly Igor, already known to our readers, was killed in a car crash. Fatal contingence. Faulty brakes in his car, no one’s insured from it. The fated will happen, and there’s no more face for me to smash, I thought. Though, I was really sorry for my colleague. But soon I was appointed to his place, my salary rose, and I began to know more secrets. The pain of loss was replaced by new tasks and new prospects. As the phrase goes, bad luck often brings good luck.
Other two weeks passed. We perfectly celebrated my birthday. And, as usual, first chill prevented us from proper enjoying our rest in the open air. Of course, we had shashlik, but couldn’t spend half a day outside because of the weather…
About a week later, our authority informed about the coming “great meeting”, just like the one where I secretly made my tricks with the scotch tape. The event itself wasn’t great news; such meetings occurred quite regularly fifteen or twenty times a year in different countries. But for the first time I had to guard the most holy place, the meeting hall itself. Security arrangements that time were just other-worldly. After the delegation’s arriving, access to the meeting hall was banned for the guards, and my task was to stand at the hall entrance, let in and out presidents and prime-ministers. But because of the importance of that collection, my heart had been pumping hard since the morning. I was afraid to overlook something and make a fool of myself. But to my surprise, everything went smoothly. In suave manner I let in the Presidents of America and France, and also the Chancellor of Germany, cutie pie Merkel. Then the Prime Minister of Great Britain arrived. Next were the Japanese Prime Minister and the General Secretary of China. Apparently, our eastern brothers came together by the same train from Khabarovsk, I joked to myself. At the same time, I could see with my own eyes and verify the humorous remark that, what Russians have on their private parts, Barack Obama has on his head. This lean but cockish representative of Yankee arrived latest. My army sergeant major would in no time break him of the bad habit to be late, I thought and smiled kindly to the number one American. It seemed that my stress was turning to extra joy. I immediately ordered my thoughts to refocus.
The guests took seats according to protocol and were bastardizing listlessly the English language. About ten minutes later some movements arose in the hall, and all those present began greeting someone else and singing the praises. Bright flare lit up the hall at that, as if a bit of the sun inflamed. This circumstance surprised me much, as it was me who guarded the entrance, and I was careful not to let in anyone but the above mentioned guests. Let alone those with torches or floodlights. Lord forbid, if anyone strange entered the hall, it would cost my head, I thought restlessly. And I was sure a hundred per cent there were no powerful light sources inside the hall. But my dislocation in any case was at the entrance with my back to the door, so I was unable to disobey and look into the hall. That meant I could only strain my ears over the top.
They were discussing something in the hall, and I could hear just fragments. I couldn’t even identify the speakers properly. Of course, my bad English was to blame, and also the fact that they were talking almost in whisper.
- We don’t very much like the situation in the so called “Middle East”, - some rasping voice began, - the pyramids have been ransacked. And yet they’d been acting to us as useful navigation aids for centuries. And if we’re really going to start a new level of cooperation with you, we’d like to recall these structures and their equipment to our full control. According to the information we have, several artifacts and technical devices have been grabbed by the authorities of Egypt, Tunisia and Libya. And they conceal them carefully. But we’re determined to recover them. We’re going to wipe each of those countries half off the map, and they will give us everything in return. We have no other methods against pickers and stealers.
There came a pause, and then it changed to busy whispering. The crowd was obviously embarrassed on hearing that, but they got over again and seemed to start making some decisions.
- This is “the eleven” to “the seven”, how’s the situation? – my earphone suddenly cried.
- Clear, - I whispered to the faraway staff office.
While my chief was “blowing into my ears” checking the dislocation, I lost the thread of the conversation. Now there was nothing to do but to content with the middle of the discussion.
- …surely declare that we ourselves can solve this problem with recovery of, as you call them, artifacts to your control. The above mentioned authorities are guaranteed to return you everything. Within two or three months we’re to replace all the authorities in Arab countries to more responsive and loyal ones. I, just like the other ones present here, declare on behalf of our states that it’s just a matter of time. And there’s no use in total destroying of the countries. Acting this way you’ll disclose your presence on our planet to other countries and peoples. And it’ll expose to a risk all the agreements made before about confidential cooperation just with the heads of our seven countries. It’s not to our advantage that all tellurians knew about it, as it could lead to chaos and misbalance of political forces. At the moment we’re the rulers in our states, and if plain citizens discover your existence, they’ll stop obeying to the authorities and start following you as the representatives of a more developed civilization. And this, in turn, isn’t advantageous for you, as you declared that the Intergalactic Council bans any interference, even indirect, into national matters on the Earth or any other planet. In addition, any destructions will require considerable investments on their subsequent reconstruction, and our businessmen have huge amount of property there; well, simply said, we possess many things there. We have just to replace bloodlessly the authorities to puppets, and then we’ll be able to own everything. And there’ll certainly be no problems with the recovery of your stolen instruments. We’re sure! Am I right, sirs? – some top guest finished.
The speaker was given the nod by the audience. The rasping voice waited a little, then agreed and went on:
- We’re for mutual help, good for good. Let’s keep to this principle hereafter. Do change your authorities provided that the result won’t keep itself waiting. By the way, you have one island state somewhere in the ocean, sea earthquake and radiation leak will be there soon; be prepared, approximately in the area of “Ukusi menya”.
Oops! I hardly burst out laughing. What sort of charade’s happening inside? Is it a top meeting or a collection of crazy foretellers? How can a dozen of presidents complete with sheiks be replaced in no time? Maybe, they‘re just rehearsing pre-New Year pranks? And what a funny name “Ukusi menya”? There’s no place in the world with such name, I’ll give my head for it. Geopolitics was my favourite subject in the Military College. I listened not very attentively to the final speeches and praiseful toasts, as my chief was constantly crying into my ear instructing me every minute.
Soon the meeting was over, and the guests left to their airports. I got home already at night and was full of thoughts. I spent several more days brooding, and convinced myself at last that almost half of the information I’d overheard in that meeting came mutilate to me. I was just too alarmed then because of the importance of the event. I was sleepy. The acoustics was bad. And that even might have been a special record in the meeting hall, so that no one else including the guard could overhear the true whispering of first faces. In this case, the whole picture became more digestible and ordinary, and I calmed down over time. But not for long.
Suddenly, one November evening Elena got from her bag the scotch tape I’d asked her to analyze, and started giving me the third degree.
- Do you remember, darling, the scotch with prints you gave me long ago? I hope you do. And you know, this print is, of course, of a living organism, but this living organism is not from our planet. I was taken aback, and she gave me an expectant glance and went on attacking, - maybe you don’t work as a guard but fly into space? Or you have a good time with bitches from other worlds?
I had to take a seat in order not to fall down; I expected much from my scotch, but not that much. Then tortures of hurt feelings and invocations of conscience followed. But I still couldn’t make up my mind to tell her everything, that’s why I suggested taking a little time to make myself sure of one more thing. I ardently promised to let her openly into everything from beginning to end. So we settled it this way. But if you think woman’s mind and memory are only victims of jokes, you’re wrong. From time to time my wife reminded me of my promise and grew more impatient. And I was in a twit. I made a call to my work, took me a three day’s unpaid leave and fell into a brown study. I urgently had to initiate something. All my entity rebelled. I already had all puzzles in my hands, now it was necessary to put the whole picture together. So that rasping voice belonged to an alien, I beg your pardon? And our authorities have been closely cooperating with extraterrestrial civilizations for a long time. But they don’t disclose it to us, ordinary citizens. The governments of the developed countries usurped and classified the information which was to become common property, but they themselves contacted the aliens to the utmost. Do they solve narrow self-serving problems? And my darling in the meantime works hard in her clubs and courses, grapples together with equally befooled professors with the problem if there’s life beyond Earth, and if aliens visit us. This injustice hurt me so much that in the evening I couldn’t help telling my wife everything in one breath. If you could only see her eyes! But I moved on, I asked her to organize a special meeting of her “anomaly” club. I longed to make a speech there. At all costs. I was sick and tired of our authorities’ deceits.
Next morning I, as usual, looked out of the window to see if the weather was frosty or sleety. In the opposite house I caught a quick glimpse of a strange guy who, at the sight of me, hid abruptly some tricky device from the windowsill. I even rubbed my eyes in surprise. I even thought I was having delusions. I withdrew into my room for a bit, then jumped quickly to the window and looked out again. This time the fellow wasn’t able to shelter himself, and I saw that the tricky device was nothing else but a long-distance listening device. Aimed at the desired windows, it could even listen to a kettle hissing, let alone any talks. The agent realized he was spotted and smiled gently, and I thought that he would plant explosives into my car or cut brake hoses with the same smile. He might have already done something like that. I wondered if Igor had been sent to the skies by that good-natured guy or his partner. Now I was definitely sure there were no fatal contingences in our life. And mine was there in the opposite house. It was smiling. But ordered a certain command, it could in no time replace the listening device with a sniper rifle. It is easy. And then he would even tell his wife that he served for its country and acted correctly. And the wife would be proud of her hero-husband who participated in special operations defending the motherland.
Just in case I drew the curtains in all the rooms; there was shade.
So things took an aggressive turn and proved my guesswork at the same time. I nosed into serious matters, and now serious people took interest in me. Of course, my siege was a piece of cake for them. They’re true professionals. I was wildly excited what way they would use to do away with me, and the main thing when. They may use asphyxiant gas at my flat or make a draught in the entrance hall and put deadly poison through it. And they definitely had more than a dozen methods as their “set pieces” to get rid of me softly and bloodlessly. Those bastards certainly won’t touch my wife, there’s no use in killing weak women. It’s easier to get rid of me gently and make her think her overtired husband went mad, for example, and took his own life. I was sure my enemies had such development scheme in stock.
Two days passed, and nothing changed. Obviously, that freak from the opposite house settled in his rental flat waiting. I looked secretly through the window at times, but there was anger on his face and in no way kindly benevolence. Apparently, his fingers itched to knock me off and return to his wife’s soups and cutlets.
At 5 p.m. Elena called me to say that her colleagues were ready to hold the special meeting of the “anomaly” club. The solemn hall was more than half full pending the unusual information announced. There was an hour left before the beginning of the meeting. It was time to take action. Well, I also kept pace with those ministerial supercrats and had my own plan.
I went to the corridor and got my old fishing jackets. Having made a pile of that, I poured it over with oil and set on fire. I lit a cigarette, took a seat next to the burning pile and started studying the riskiness of my action. I didn’t want to die at all. But I had no other prospects in mind and acted exactly like that. I realized that special agents could at any time break into my flat and make a pair of confirming kills to make sure I burnt with all my belongings. Or they could use the same poison or V-agent. I imagined the spy, who was definitely watching in the porch, reporting of the fire to “the higher-ups”. I imagined the face of some general in the headquarters becoming puzzled on hearing that a truth lover and fighter against the present system destructed himself, locked in his kennel. What a present! That exactly played into their hands. The version of a petty tyrant and madman started producing quite tangible results. Without any fuss, as the word is. The full and definitive solution of the problem. And bloodless, in addition. And clearly a Service Medal shone them too. Well, I certainly did them a good turn playing to the full for their team…
The smoke increased, and fifteen minutes later firemen knocked at the door violently. My calculation proved to be true; the neighbors had called the rescue. Even my dates with girls couldn’t compare with the joy I had at that moment. So, it was my turn to play.
Three minutes later I was going downstairs, dressed in the firefighter’s uniform. In such appearance I stood a good chance not to be recognized. I flocked for show about a tank car, then withdrew leisurely to the yard of the neighboring five-storey building and hid myself in the gateway. I found a mobile in the inside pocket of the jacket, which I took from the fireman I had knocked out in my flat. So I dialed the rescue service. I informed them about the fire at the university where my wife taught. Then I got out of my shelter, went to the parallel street and took a taxi to the university. By the time I came, the confused firemen had made almost two rounds in search of flash point. I joined them too. And when the evacuated students and teachers were allowed to the classrooms again, I managed to enter the solemn hall just prior to the beginning of the meeting. My conscience bothered me only about the firefighter who was lying across my close bathroom; though he probably had been already rescued and dressed. You know, it’s somehow no good to loll oneself in another’s accommodation and yet in the raw.
The secretary announced my speech, and I mounted the platform. I introduced myself, talked about my job, showed the audience the fingerprints on the scotch tape and even retold the fragments of the talk I’d overheard during the top-secret meeting. I saw that about a half of those present believed my words, the others remained absolutely skeptic. I thought it was almost victory, next day the media would nose out my speech and launch an investigation. And, if duly insisted, my facts would prove to be true, and the unfairly concealed truth would be out to people. But I was a right one blurting that “Ukusi menya”; the audience burst out laughing, and most faces began to express their previous mistrust mask.
It seemed I was losing. I took a gulp of water and went faint. Obviously, several bobbed men in formal suits looking like toy soldiers were prepared to that thing. Those faceless demi-semi men picked me up, took to their car and brought me to hospital in the outskirts.
Four months passed. The so called “Arab spring” took place in the Middle East. The rulers were replaced almost in all states there. And there was also radiation leak at the atomic power station in Japan. And everyone who had listened to my speech at the university that day realized that “Ukusi menya” was pure and simple Fukushima. I just hadn’t caught it then. Things happen. So my former listeners gathered sometimes at the gate of the loony bin and required my release. They even scanned and made posters in support…
And I never knew the meaning of the phrase “Ukusi menya”. And even if I had managed to, I’d have hardly understood it. I loved the keeper named Seryoga best of all. He seldom beat me and let playing color brick boxes as much as I wanted. I stopped piddling in bed over time, mastered my bedpan and often got extra biscuits for that.