Read The Doomed City Page 32


  “I do,” said Heiger. “You say there that as one moves farther to the north, the sun will decline toward the horizon. Obviously, somewhere far to the north it will set behind the horizon and completely disappear from sight. So I’m asking you how far it is to that place—can you tell me?”

  “You don’t read my reports,” said Andrei. “If you did read them, you’d have realized that my whole idea for this expedition is precisely in order to discover where that ‘beginning of the world’ is.”

  “I realized that,” Heiger said patiently. “I’m asking you for an approximation. Can you tell me that distance, at least approximately? How far is it—a thousand kilometers? A hundred thousand? A million? We’re determining the goal of the expedition, do you understand that? If that goal is a million kilometers away, then it’s no longer a goal. But if—”

  “OK, that’s clear,” said Andrei. “Why didn’t you say so? Well then . . . The difficulty here is that we don’t know the curvature of the world or the distance to the sun. If we had numerous observations along the entire line of the City—not the present City, you realize, but from the beginning to the end—then we could determine these magnitudes. We need a large arc, you understand? At least several hundred kilometers. All the material we have so far only covers an arc of fifty kilometers. And that means the accuracy is negligible.”

  “Give me the absolute minimum and absolute maximum,” said Heiger.

  “The maximum is infinity,” said Andrei. “That’s if the world is flat. And the minimum is in the order of a thousand kilometers.”

  “You lousy spongers,” Heiger said in disgust. “All the money I’ve put into you, and what do I get . . .”

  “Ah, come on now,” said Andrei. “I’ve been trying to get this expedition out of you for two years. If you want to know what sort of world you live in, put up the money, the transport, the men. Otherwise, nothing will be done. All we need is an arc of about five hundred kilometers. We’ll measure the gravity, variations in brightness, variations in height—”

  “All right,” Heiger interrupted. “We won’t talk about that now. Those are details. You just get it clear that one of the expedition’s goals is to reach the beginning of the world. Have you got that clear?”

  “We have,” said Andrei. “But we don’t understand why you need that.”

  “I want to know what’s there,” said Heiger. “There is something there. And it might be important for many reasons.”

  “For instance?” Andrei asked.

  “For instance, the Anticity.”

  Andrei snorted. “The Anticity . . . You mean to say you still believe in it?”

  Heiger got up, clasped his hands behind his back, and started striding around the dining room. “Believe in it, don’t believe in it,” he said. “I have to know for certain whether it exists or not.”

  “It became clear to me a long time ago,” Andrei said, “that the Anticity is merely an invention of the former leadership.”

  “Like the Red Building,” Izya said in a low voice, giggling.

  Andrei frowned. “The Red Building has nothing to do with this. Heiger himself stated that the former leadership was preparing a military dictatorship, it needed an external threat—and there you have the Anticity.”

  Heiger stopped in front of them. “But why exactly are you protesting against an expedition all the way to the very end? Surely you must be at least a little bit curious about what might be there? What kind of counselors has God given me?”

  “But there isn’t anything there!” said Andrei, feeling disoriented. “There’s fierce cold, eternal night, a desert of ice . . . The far side of the moon, do you understand?”

  “I am in possession of different information,” said Heiger. “The Anticity exists. There isn’t any desert of ice, or if there is, it can be crossed. There’s a city, exactly like ours, but what goes on there, we don’t know, and what they want there—we don’t know that either. But they say, for instance, that everything there is the other way round. When things are good for us here, things are bad for them there . . .” He broke off and started walking around the dining room again.

  “Oh God,” said Andrei. “What is this mumbo jumbo?”

  He glanced at Izya and bit his tongue. Izya was sitting there with his arms thrown back behind his chair. His necktie had slipped around under his ear; he was looking triumphantly at Andrei, with a greasy, beaming smile on his face.

  “I see,” said Andrei. “Might I be informed from which sources you drew this information?” he asked Izya.

  “The same ones as ever, my dear man,” said Izya. “History is a great science. And in our City it has an especially large number of tricks up its sleeve. After all, in addition to all the other things, what is really great about our City? The archives in it don’t get destroyed, do they? There are no wars, no invasions, what is written with the pen is not hacked apart with the ax . . .”

  “Those archives of yours . . .” Andrei said in annoyance.

  “Yes indeed! Fritz will tell you I’m not lying—who found coal? Three hundred thousand tons of coal in an underground storage facility. Did your geologists find it? No, Katzman found it. Without even leaving his little study, mind you.”

  “In brief,” said Heiger, sitting down on his chair again, “setting aside the science and the archives, I want to know the following. One. What lies in our rear? It is possible to live there? What useful materials can we extract there? Two. Who lives there? Along the entire distance: from this place”—he tapped his fingernail on the table—“all the way to end of the world, or the beginning, or as far as you get . . . What kind of people are they? Are they people? Why are they there? How did they get there? And three. Everything you can manage to find out about the Anticity. This is the political goal that I have set myself. And this is the genuine goal of the expedition, Andrei, you have to understand that. You’ll take this expedition, explore everything that I’ve mentioned, and report the results to me here, in this room.”

  “What did you say?” Andrei asked.

  “You’ll report. Here. In person.”

  “You want to send me there?”

  “Naturally. What did you think?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Andrei, flustered. “What on Earth for? I wasn’t planning on going anywhere . . . I’m up to my eyes with work here in the City—who can I dump that on? And I don’t want to go anywhere!”

  “What do you mean by that—you don’t want to go? Why have you been pestering me? If not you, then who can I send?”

  “My God,” said Andrei. “Anyone at all! Appoint Quejada to lead it . . . a highly experienced prospector . . . or Butz, for example . . .”

  He fell silent under Heiger’s intent stare. “Let’s not talk about Quejada or Butz,” Heiger said in a quiet voice.

  Andrei couldn’t think of anything to say to that, and an awkward silence fell.

  Then Heiger poured himself some cold coffee. “In this City,” he said in the same quiet voice, “there are only two or three men I trust. Out of them, you’re the only one who can lead the expedition. Because I’m certain that if I ask you to go all the way to the end, you’ll go all the way to the end. You won’t turn off halfway down the road and you won’t allow anyone else to turn off halfway down the road. And when you present your report to me afterward, I’ll be able to believe that report. I could trust Izya’s report, for instance, too, but Izya’s goddamned worthless as an administrator and a totally useless politician. Do you understand me? Either you lead this expedition or the expedition won’t happen.”

  Silence fell again. Izya said awkwardly, “Oh-ho-ho-ho . . . Maybe I should step outside, administrators?”

  “Stay in your seat,” Heiger ordered, without even turning toward him. “There, eat the cakes.”

  Andrei feverishly tried to make sense of things. Abandon everything. Selma. The house. My calm, smooth-running life. Why the hell has this been landed on me? Amalia. Trudging all that way to God knows where
. Heat. Filth. Lousy food . . . Have I gotten old, then? A couple of years ago I’d have been thrilled with an offer like this. But now I don’t want it. I just don’t want it at all . . . Izya every day—in Homeric doses. Soldiers. And we’ll probably travel on foot, won’t we, for the whole thousand kilometers, carrying sacks over our shoulders, and not empty sacks either, dammit . . . And guns. Mother of God, we might have to shoot out there! What the hell do I want with that—facing up to bullets? What the hell does a goat want with an accordion? Why the hell would a wolf want a waistcoat—to fray it on the bushes? I’ll definitely have to take Uncle Yura—I don’t trust those soldiers an inch . . . Heat, and blisters, and stench . . . And then right at the very edge—hellish damned cold, probably . . . At least the sun will be behind us all the time . . . And I have to take Quejada, I won’t go without Quejada, and that’s that—never mind that you don’t trust him, with Quejada at least I can feel confident about the science part . . . And all that time without a woman, enough to drive you crazy, I’m not used to that anymore. But you’ll pay me for this. You’ll let the chancellery have something, for a start, give me some full-time positions for the Social Psychology department . . . and a few for Geodesy wouldn’t do any harm . . . And second, you’ll rap Vareikis over the knuckles. And in general, all these ideological restrictions—I won’t have them anywhere near my science. In the other departments, by all means, that’s no concern of mine . . . There isn’t even any water there! That’s why the City keeps creeping southward, isn’t it—in the north the springs are drying up. So will you order us to carry water with us? For a thousand kilometers? “So am I going to lug the water on my back?” he asked irritably.

  Heiger jerked up his eyebrows in amazement. “What water?”

  Andrei realized he’d spoken out loud. “Well, all right, then,” he said. “Only I’ll choose the soldiers myself, since you insist on them so firmly. Or else you’ll hand me all sorts of boneheads . . . And there has to be a unified command!” he said threateningly, raising his finger. “I’m the one in charge!”

  “You, you,” Heiger said reassuringly, and smiled, leaning back in his chair, “You’ll select everybody, in fact. The only man I impose on you is Izya. The others are up to you. Make sure to get good mechanics, select a doctor—”

  “Yes. By the way, will I have some kind of transport?”

  “You will,” said Heiger. “And it will be genuine transport. Like we’ve never had here before. You won’t have to lug anything around yourself, except maybe your gun . . . But don’t get distracted; these are all details. We’ll have a special discussion about them later, when you’ve selected the heads of the subunits . . . What I want to focus your attention on is this . . . Secrecy! Make sure you give me that, guys. Of course, it’s impossible to completely conceal an undertaking like this, so we have to put out disinformation—say you’ve gone prospecting for oil, for instance. Out on the 240 kilometer line. But the political goals of the expedition must remain known only to you. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Andrei responded.

  “Izya, that especially applies to you. Do you hear?”

  “Ughu,” Izya said with his mouth stuffed full.

  “But why all the secrecy?” asked Andrei. “What are we going to do that means we have to shroud it in secrecy like this?”

  “You don’t understand?” Heiger asked, making a wry face.

  “No, I don’t,” said Andrei. “I absolutely cannot see anything about this that is a threat to the system.”

  “Not to the system, you blockhead!” said Heiger. “To you! It’s a threat to you! Surely you can understand that they’re just as afraid of us as we are of them?”

  “Who are they? Your Anticitizens, is it?”

  “But of course! If we’ve finally gotten around to sending out a reconnaissance party, why not assume that they did it ages ago? That the City is simply crawling with their spies? Don’t smile, don’t, you stupid fool. I’m not joking here! You run into an ambush and they’ll slaughter you all like little chicks.”

  “OK,” said Andrei. “You’ve persuaded me. I say no more.”

  Heiger contemplated him doubtfully for a moment, then said, “All right, then. So you’ve grasped the goals. And the need for secrecy too. So, basically, that’s all. Today I’ll sign the decree appointing you the leader of Operation . . . mmm . . . Let’s say . . .”

  “Murk and Gloom,” Izya prompted, opening his eyes innocently wide.

  “What? No . . . Too long. Let’s say . . . Zigzag. Operation Zigzag. That has a good ring to it, doesn’t it?” Heiger took a notepad out of his breast pocket and jotted something down. “Andrei, you can get started on the preparations. I’m only talking about the scientific part for now. Select the people, define your tasks . . . order equipment and tackle . . . I’ll make sure your orders get the green light. Who’s your deputy?”

  “In the chancellery? Butz.”

  Heiger frowned. “Well, OK,” he said. “Let it be Butz. Dump the entire chancellery on him, and you switch over completely to Operation Zigzag . . . And warn that Butz of yours not to shoot his mouth off so much!” he suddenly barked out.

  “I tell you what,” said Andrei. “Let’s agree between the two of us—”

  “Dammit, dammit!” said Heiger. “I don’t wish to talk about these matters. I know what you want to say to me! But a fish rots from the head, Mr. Counselor, and in your chancellery you’ve created a gang of . . . ah, dammit!”

  “Jacobins,” Izya suggested.

  “And you keep quiet, Jew!” Heiger roared. “Damn you all to hell, you blabbermouths! You’ve completely put me off . . . What was I saying?”

  “That you don’t wish to talk about these matters,” said Izya.

  Heiger stared at him blankly, and then Andrei said in an emphatically calm voice, “Fritz, I ask you please to protect my staff from all sorts of pompous ideological nonsense. I selected those people myself, I trust them, and if you really want to have any science in the City, leave them in peace.”

  “Well, all right, all right,” Heiger growled, “we won’t discuss this today.”

  “Yes we will,” Andrei said meekly, amazed at himself. “You know me—I’m behind you a hundred percent. Please understand that these people can’t help grouching. It’s just the way they are. The ones who don’t grouch aren’t worth a damn. Let them grouch! I’ll take care of ideological morals in my own chancellery somehow. You don’t need to worry. And please tell our dear Ruhmer to remember once and for all—”

  “Can we manage without the ultimatums?” Heiger inquired haughtily.

  “Yes,” Andrei said with absolute meekness now. “We can manage without anything. Without any ultimatums, without any science, without any expedition . . .”

  Breathing noisily through flared nostrils, Heiger stared at him point-blank. “I do not wish to talk about this subject now!” he said.

  Andrei realized that that was enough for today. Especially since it really was better to talk about these subjects one on one. “If you don’t wish to, then we won’t,” he said in a placatory tone. “It just happened to be an appropriate moment. You see, Vareikis really got under my skin today . . . Listen, here’s a question for you. What’s the total load I can take with me? At least approximately.”

  Heiger forced the breath out through his nostrils a few more times, then squinted at Izya and leaned back again in his chair. “Count on five tons, or six . . . maybe even more,” he said. “Get in touch with Manjuro . . . Only bear in mind that he might be the fourth figure in the state but he knows nothing about the genuine goals of the expedition. He’s responsible for transport. You can find out all the details from him.”

  Andrei nodded. “All right. And as for the soldiers, you know who I want to take? The colonel.”

  Heiger started. “The colonel? You’ve got expensive tastes! Who will that leave me with? The entire general staff revolves around the colonel.”

  “Well, that’s excellent,” said A
ndrei. “Then the colonel can carry out deep reconnaissance at the same time. Make a personal study, so to speak, of the potential theater of operations. And we already get along well together . . . By the way, guys, I’m having a little party this evening. Beef bourguignonne. How are you fixed?”

  A preoccupied expression immediately appeared on Heiger’s face. “Hmm . . . Today? I don’t know, my old friend, I can’t say for certain . . . I simply don’t know. Maybe I’ll drop by for a minute or two.”

  Andrei sighed. “Oookay. Only if you don’t come, please don’t send Ruhmer to take your place like the last time. I’m not inviting the president to my house, you know, but Fritz Heiger. I don’t need any official substitutes.”

  “Well, we’ll see, we’ll see . . .” said Heiger. “How about another cup? There’s still time. Parker!”

  Ruddy-faced Parker appeared in the doorway and listened to the order for coffee, inclining his head with an ideal part in the hair, then said in a deferential voice, “Counselor Ruhmer is waiting on the phone for Mr. President.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Heiger growled, getting up. “Sorry, guys, I’ll be right back.”

  He walked out, and immediately the girls in white aprons appeared. They rapidly and soundlessly organized a second round of coffee and disappeared, together with Parker.

  “Well, will you come?” Andrei asked Izya.

  “Glad to,” said Izya, gulping his coffee with whistling and champing sounds. “Who’ll be there?”

  “The colonel will be there. And the Dolfusses, maybe Chachua . . . Why, who would you like?”

  “To be honest, I could do without Madam Dolfuss.”

  “Never mind, we’ll set Chachua on her.”

  Izya nodded, and then suddenly said, “It’s a pretty long time since we got together, eh?”

  “Yes, brother, work . . .”

  “Lies, lies, what kind of work do you do? You just sit there, polishing your collection . . . make sure you don’t accidentally shoot yourself . . . Oh yes, by the way, I got hold of a pistol for you. A genuine Smith & Wesson, from the prairies.”