Birds and a Stone

A female voice started to chatter on the other side of the line. There was a habitual event – a drunken brawl. Somebody’s prolonged birthday party which included excessive doses of alcohol has turned a private apartment into a boxing ring. And “the heart-to-heart talk” has resulted in bloodshed... Rebrov connected to the operations group on duty through an internal telephone line. After a while, captain Onishchenko entered the room, looking half-asleep.

“Well, who else has broken his madcap in crapulent and hungry state at 3 a.m.?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Look,” Rebrov pointed to the journal.

Captain glanced over the latest notation.

“Not bad! We have to go to the very other side of the district! Eh, our hard lot...”

Onishchenko looked at Chmil sleeping with his face under the newspaper, smiled and softly sneaked up to him closer.

“Squadron, stand up! Senior lieutenant Chmil, two duties out of turn!” he commanded loudly.

Sleepy Chmil sprang up in the stand of attention instinctively, having dropped the only intact chair and accidentally pushed down an ashtray full of cigarette stubs. But he came to his senses right away. Sergeant Kostushkin jumped up frightened together with him.

“Damn, Onishchenko! You’ll make me childless once,” Chmil grumbled with displeasure.

“Why childless?” Captain wondered laughing.

“Why, why...” Chmil mimicked him. “Because... Do you know how one’s mind is affected by...”

“А-а-аh..,” Onishchenko drawled and then added, “Well, “authority loses its appeal without abuse”. These are your words, aren’t they?”

“Well, yeah, it’s called ‘even a storyteller dozes off without urging forward’.”

It became somewhat livelier in the duty subdivision. While Onishchenko was talking with Chmil, two more operations officers and a driver came.

“All right, we are going,” Captain uttered leaving the duty room.

“Good luck,” Rebrov replied.

After the operations group had left, Chmil wandered around the room, like a bear awaken in the middle of its winter hibernation. Kicking the chair wreckage, he muttered, “This Onishchenko... is like a dog in the manger. He’s interrupted the dream at such a passage, reptile...”

“Sit down to the control desk, and I’ll make coffee,” Rebrov said, staring at the senior lieutenant.

Chmil gave up his “occupation” and heavily seated himself on the chair, looking around for somebody to vent his bad mood upon. Rebrov was obviously not suitable for this purpose. He was of senior rank, and furthermore he was a good man always conducting himself humanly, unlike that Onishchenko. Chmil glanced over the room. “Maybe, I’ll drop into the ‘monkey house’,” he thought, having rested his gaze at the cell. But suddenly Kostushkin entered the room, having returned from the lavatory. And Chmil chose an ideal target for letting the “steam” out on. He made a stern face and, profiting by the fact Rebrov was in the other room, articulated imperiously, “Sergeant Kostushkin, why is there rubbish in the duty room?” he pointed his finger at the cigarette stubs scattered on the floor and ordered. “Take a besom and tidy the territory now!”

“But why me? Was it me who threw them about?” Kostushkin replied in a similar flatulent tone.

Chmil was nearly struck dumb with surprise.

“Look at this youth nowadays! How dare you speaking like this to a senior officer?!”

“Oh, come on, Chmil! Why are you jumping on me? You’ve dropped this, so you’re to sweep it yourself.”

“What, what?”

The senior lieutenant began to rise from the table slowly. Looking at his impressive figure, Kostushkin even shriveled for he did not particularly distinguish himself for the musculature. Thus, when Chmil menacingly halfrose in his not full hefty height, the sergeant no more tried his destiny and saluted, standing at attention.

“Sir, yes, sir! Let me take a besom and tidy the territory!”

And right then he passed out of sight to get the necessary cleaning tools. Chmil smacked his lips contentedly, seated himself again and grumbled, “There you are...”

When Rebrov brought coffee for all three of them, the senior lieutenant was instructively lecturing Kostushkin on how he should fulfill orders while working in militia. Meanwhile, Kostushkin was sweeping the last stubs, glancing askance at Chmil with displeasure.

“Ah, you’re doing the room! Good fellows!” Rebrov praised. “OK, let’s have a snack.”

Major took out a big sandwich cautiously prepared by his wife and cut it into three portions.

“Here, dinner is served.”

Sipping hot coffee, Chmil softened his aggressive tone.

“Well, coffee” he glanced at his watch, “at 20 minutes past 3 is a heavenly delight! Kostushkin, you should value the instants of youth! Where else could you drink coffee like this at 3 a.m., close to those exotic individuals,” Chmil pointed to “the monkey house”, “with such special admixtures of various aromas?”

Rebrov faintly smiled, already foreknowing where Chmil was driving at. And the latter continued to pile it on, “Just imagine: you are sitting and drinking black coffee at such a dismal night (it’s a pity it’s not Friday the 13th), under the light of full moon in black-black clouds, when vampires and werewolves agitate the city with their drawling howl...”

At that very moment, a dog actually howled somewhere nearby. Kostushkin almost dropped his cup. However, aloud he said, “Aha! You’ll now tell about vampires... Stop duping me, noodle!”

“Me?! Duping you?! Never! Rebrov won’t let me lie,” and he went on with an ominous voice, “Two months ago, in a neighbouring village not far from here, a vampire died under very strange circumstances. His name was Luka. If you visited his house and especially his little shed... you would die of terror! Even the operations veterans couldn’t sleep for several weeks after being there because Luka kept looming to them. Just imagine: a large preparation table, blood, bowels, stench, ten corpses hanging...”

Kostushkin, being already impressed by the story, choked with coffee. He started coughing and rushed out to the lavatory.

“What a fellow!” Chmil gave up. “Weakling!”

“Well, ten corpses have been excessive,” Rebrov said. “For this guy, a single one would be enough for an effect.”

“Oh, it’ nothing, I only wanted to tickled his nerves a little,” Chmil laughed off.

At this moment, there resounded an acute, deafening telephone call. Chmil and Rebrov flinched simultaneously.

“Yeah, brother, we all have weak nerves!” Rebrov said, grinning at such a reaction, and picked up the receiver.

“Major Rebrov, officer on duty, fifteenth department.”

“Come here promptly!” a trembling voice of an old lady was heard on the other side. “There... there is... shooting.., something’s happening, the boy’s crying...”

“Just a minute. Please, give your given name, family name, address...”

The old lady began to speak unevenly, being nervous and all along repeating that something had happened behind the wall, that the child’s crying, and that militia had to arrive urgently. At some mysterious level, the old woman’s troubled state passed to Rebrov as well. Something clenched inside him. But Major endeavoured to hold on in cold blood while clarifying all details of the situation. He was supposed to do so under regulations, although he understood very well how stupid and absurd these questions seemed to those on the other end of the line. A person was in a shock condition, and somebody was asking his or her name. But, on the other hand, someone had to keep composure in order to think sensibly and intelligibly no matter how tense the situation could be, for any kind of panic only aggravated the stress.

After couple of minutes, Major finally clarified the matter. The telephone call came from neighbours living in the same private house with victims. An old married couple woke up because they had heard sounds similar to shooting. Afterwards, there started some ado, bustle, child’s cry. So, they phoned to militia.

Rebrov strained his memory. The address seemed to be familiar. And suddenly he remembered... Of course! When Rebrov was still in the operations, he met the owner of that house. The latter was quite a good man who worked in the street patrol as a volunteer and once helped the operations to detain an inveterate criminal. He now had a private business, and lived together with his wife, ten-year-old son and aged mother. He and his wife sold clothes in the local marketplace. They were neither poor nor rich, just earning enough living. The man did not drink alcohol and didn’t smoke. He had some health problem, a sort of stomach ulcer... No, a drunken brawl could be anywhere, but not in that house.

Rebrov became tense. A vague inexplicable feeling of unrest was growing like a snowball. “No, something’s wrong, something really grave has happened there. The operations group must be sent their immediately. Wait a minute...” The group was at the far end of the district. Rebrov counted the time: whilst he would inform them, whilst they would arrive, it could already be late. Too late!!! Rebrov didn’t know himself why he was so sure the operations would not be on time. But he felt at a subconscious level that something should have been done right away and very fast. Major sprang to his feet and rushed to the other room to take his jacket.

“What is it again?” Chmil had no time to finish when Rebrov interrupted him, having paused halfway.

“OK, Chmil, communicate the recorded address urgently to the operations. Have them go there as soon as possible!”

Becoming aware of the entire gravity of the situation, Chmil asked, “Damn it, what happened?”

“The old lady heard shooting and fighting behind the wall... That house is two blocks from here... Do you mind having a refreshing run?” Rebrov tried to speak more or less easy, but he was not really good at it.

“Sure,” Chmil said in bewilderment, shrugging his shoulders. “What about the duty division?”

At that moment, sergeant entered the duty room.

“You play funny tricks at night!” Kostushkin said laughing, having taken this scene for a practical joke.

“Kostushkin, you’ll remain on the phone. Chmil, call the operations right now!”

Rebrov hurried to get his clothes. Chmil started calling the duty operations group.

“What has happened?” Kostushkin got alarmed.

“Militia officers not only sleep at night, but also work from time to time,” the senior lieutenant said sarcastically. “Why are you staring at me? Fulfil the order!”

He contacted the operations and illustrated the situation.

“Why, do I have to stay here alone?!” Kostushkin finally understood, and his eyes turned roundwide. “It’s contrary to regulations!”

“But why alone? You have so many interlocutors here!” Chmil spitefully nodded in the “monkey house” direction, putting his jacket on. “One’s better than the other.”

“Regulations do not permit this!” Kostushkin did his utmost to cover his fear with a hysterics.

“Listen, you, milksop!” Chmil grabbed sergeant and shook him violently. “Stop harping on the same string: “Regulations, regulations”… Consider this an emergency situation. Do you understand?! Rebrov and I, we’ll come back soon. You will sit here and be totally fine. Are you scared like a molly?!”

The last phrase had a sobering effect on Kostushkin. Rebrov, having dressed, appeared just at the moment.

“All right, let’s go,” he commanded, checking his gun on the move. “Kostushkin, close the door after we leave.”

“Should I call to the authorities, if it’s an emergency?” sergeant murmured with dismay.

“Don’t you dare!” Chmil threatened. “Why disturbing people for nothing at 3:30 a.m.? Maybe, everything’s OK there, the neighbours might have misheard... We’ll see and come back. Clear?!”

“Yes,” doomed Kostushkin mumbled.

“I don’t hear you!”

“Yes, sir!” he reported.

“That’s a horse of a different colour. Good boy!” Chmil stated with satisfaction.

“You’re wasting time on trifles. Let’s go quicker!” Rebrov hurried the senior lieutenant.

* * *

It was pretty cold outside. The prickly north wind was blowing. The ground was slightly iced. No one was around. Rebrov and Chmil were running along the sleeping block of grey nine-storey apartment houses. Their tramping sounded loud all through the neighborhood, but hardly anyone heard it. Lights were already put out in windows, and dwellers were peacefully sleeping in this before-dawn hour in their cozy beds, enjoying their sweet dreams.

Chmil was running ahead, and at that managed to talk to Major.

“Don’t worry that much! Maybe, the granny has misheard. Or a young company parties, launching petards. I was young myself, and I know how it can be.”

“I see,.. look at this “old man”,..” Major uttered with short breath.

Rebrov fell somewhat behind. He tried to run as fast as he could. His body was falling apart from terrible pain, and each shake-up was felt in a burning liver colic. His feet turned numb. There was a hum in his ears and a mist in his head. But Rebrov still continued this race so arduous for him as if he was surmounting not the two city blocks, but a distance equaling to his lifetime.

Chmil turned around. Looking how much effort Rebrov was making in order to cover the given distance, he felt his heart clench. The senior lieutenant dropped speed and aligned with Major.

“Listen, why are we running like hell?! Let’s walk a little. The old woman might have had a nightmare, and we are hurrying for a date with her at 3:30 a.m. like idiots!” and then he added wittily, “Are you and I some gerontophiles, or something of that sort? As for me, I have a strictly traditional sexual orientation.”

“Run forward!” Rebrov croaked.

“Forward is forward... I don’t mind really,” and Chmil went on ironically, “Eh, so it be! After all, as the saying goes, one should experience everything in life... Hey, what if I visit that granny myself? I would find everything out, and you’ll wait in the department till we sort out our relationship...”

“Life isn’t all beer and skittles...” Rebrov tried to respond likewise with a joke, choking with rapid running.

A block of nine-storey apartment buildings remained behind at once. There began labyrinths of small private houses.

“Where are you, Chmil?” Rebrov called to senior lieutenant.

“Why? The street is on that side!” he pointed.

“No... there,” Major waved and started to run in the front, showing the way.

Awaken by the patter of their feet, dogs set up restless barking all through the neighbourhood. Finally, there appeared the needed street, and the necessary last house at the corner, located on the crossroad. Rebrov ran up to the wicket and stopped, drooping over it and trying to recover his breath. Chmil also bent, leaning his hands against his knees and catching his breath.

“It’s truly hard… to keep pace with you,” he said, puffing.

Chmil raised his eyes at Major who got fishily quiet. Rebrov stopped dead, holding his breath and staring at something inside the yard. And, should he not lifted his hand showing “Attention!”, Chmil would really think he passed away. There was light in the side and front windows of the house, probably in one and the same room. People’s shadows showed up behind the curtain.

Rebrov opened the wicket silently and entered the yard together with Chmil. A dead dog was lying in a small dark puddle. Chmil squatted down and touched the sticky liquid with his finger. “Blood”, he nodded assent.

“Approach from the left,” Major whispered, pointing at the side window.

Chmil nodded again. Bending down and making short dashes along desolate outhouses, he reached a low fence separating the yard from a little flower bed near the house, faced by the side window. Despite his impressive figure, the senior lieutenant jumped over the fence almost noiselessly and disappeared in the dark.

Rebrov wiped sweat from his forehead, pulled his gun out of the holster, released the trigger lock and approached the door. His heart was throbbing inside his chest, resounding in the whole body. His breath was quickened. His hands were trembling of the fast running and extreme overstrain. His throat was parched. He seized the handle and slightly pulled the door. The latter yielded easily because it appeared to be open. Rebrov opened the door a little as accurately as he could and entered the house inaudibly. Moving ahead in the dark almost by touch, he stumbled on something soft and carefully squatted. In a faint beam of light coming from under the next room door he discerned an old woman’s hand. He felt the pulse. It was default, however the body was still warm. “Apparently, the lady’s taken on the first attack,” flashed through Rebrov’s mind. “And it’s happened very recently...” Major overstepped the corpse, holding the grip of his gun tighter, and started noiselessly moving towards the ribbon of light.

Having reached the next door, he again slowly pulled it. This room was a communicating one. The light was switched on in a neighbouring premise on the left. There was exactly from where the child’s cry was being heard. Male voices were brutally demanding money. Muted knocks and groaning wafted. Rebrov squatted near the doorway and peeped out carefully. Two armed gangsters in black masks were beating the house owner who was lying on the floor, fastened down, and were demanding to show them a place where the money was kept. One of them had an automatic gun hanging over his shoulder, the other one held a pistol in his hand. A third bandit was standing on the left, holding an axe and watching the action of his pals. There was a boy behind him who was tied to a radiator next to the window. He was plaintively crying, screwing up his eyes with fear. A woman was lying on a couch to the right, bound with a linen rope and gagged.

Rebrov frantically tried to think out what to do next. But, all of a sudden, the gangster with the automatic gun grasped the man’s hair and, pointing to the child, yelled: “Watch, you rubbish!” He beckoned to his pal, and the latter lifted the axe against the child’s fragile body. The boy let out a deafening squeal...

Rebrov as if got discharged. Not taking a single instant to ponder, he made a dart, shouting out some standard phrases and not even hearing his own voice. The only thought frantically pulsating in his mind was to rescue the child at any cost. At that moment he felt as if a bright sizzling ray pierced him from behind in the back of his head. It seemed to have exploded inside his body, generating multiple shivers like after a mighty discharge of electric current. From that very moment, Rebrov’s perception pattern completely changed. Thoughts disappeared. Lucidity and absolute peace set in. Time seemed to slow down.

He saw a gunpoint aimed at him, but felt no fear. There was only lucidity of mind and cold intention. His eyesight was concentrating unusually and clearly fixed how the bullet was flying out of the gangster’s gun barrel. Rebrov mechanically deflected his head from the bullet flight path. And only afterwards he saw the fire bursting from the round black outlet.

He glanced at the right shoulder of his adversary. Strangely, Rebrov neither his clothes nor even his skin, but just a shoulder joint being torn by a bullet. He pulled the trigger mechanically. And, in an instant, the bullet pierced his adversary precisely in the target point set by his eyes. Acting almost automatically, Rebrov took a jump incredible for his age towards the gangster with the axe and stroke the gangster’s chest with his left foot as if he practiced Oriental fighting techniques during his entire life. His adversary heavily knocked against the wall, then bounced back off it like a ball and fell to the floor, having dropped the axe.

Rebrov slightly turned his head to the right. The third bandit, having let go the man’s hair, was already raising himself and aiming the automatic gun at Major. Rebrov acted rapidly, easily and coherently as if he had been practicing these movements for years up to automatism. He kicked off the gun aside and then held it down with his right foot. Carrying on with the movement, halfsquatted, he turned his entire torso and struck a mighty blow from behind the gangster’s ear with his left elbow. The bandit collapsed unconscious, having fallen straight on the house owner. Rebrov shifted the gun into his left hand and started to pick up the automatic gun with the right one. At that moment, he fixed something strange with his side vision.

Major turned his head. In the Further in the communicating room, near the doorway where he had stood a second ago, he saw a transparent shining silhouette. Its features were further becoming clearer and more distinct, and finally an image of a beautiful face appeared. The creature’s gaze was penetrating deep into the soul with any hindrance, illuming its most secret stratums with its light. Rebrov felt he could neither endure the power of this gaze, nor he was able to turn away from its delightfully pleasant and kind gravity rejoicing his heart.

However, in a second, to Rebrov’s ineffable amazement, his side vision worked in such a way as if he looked straight at what was happening sideways. Rebrov discerned in the smallest detail how the window was shattering to pieces, how a wood log was flying into the room, having broken the window frame, and how the senior lieutenant Chmil’s robust figure was tumbling in afterwards. Wondering at such an unusual quality of his vision, Major hardly tore his eyes from the shining face and looked at the window which strangely appeared to be intact. But suddenly the glass indeed shattered to pieces, and the scene recorded by Rebrov’s mind accurately recurred in reality. Chmil flew into the room like a hurricane. But, seeing Major alive and unhurt as well as the gangsters lying around him, he stopped taken aback. Having overcome his numbness quickly, the senior lieutenant began to tie the bandits’ hands.

Rebrov was in the same state of absolute peace. He again glanced towards the communicating room which attracted most of his attention. But the room was already empty and gapingly dark. Only a slight dissipating light was fluently moving away, shimmering from the corridor. Rebrov moved to follow it without hesitation.

The world was changing its outlines with his every step. The further Rebrov was moving away from the bright light, the more focused and condensed the space around him was becoming. Having entered the darkness of the corridor, he seemed to plunge into a slowly revolving tunnel. Round “walls” and “floor” were in an amorphous condition. Putting it more precisely, “walls” and “floor” were notions from Rebrov’s past. Now he saw something like various by configuration and subdued light congestions of atoms and molecules which were changing their shape as if being animate and were copying imprints of his steps. Rebrov’s hand freely penetrated the “walls” of this mass. Though his hand turned to be not a hand, but a streaming flow of multicoloured energies enveloped with same ultimate particles as the corridor “walls” and “floor”.

In the front, he saw strangely grouped atoms and molecules mixed up with scattering light of fading energies. “The old lady”, flashed in his head. A slight luminescence was surrounding her body. In the head area, in its very middle, a little jelly-like paste was pulsating with golden-reddish light. A small glaringly bright clot was hanging poised above the body. Rebrov somehow comprehended that the clot of energies and the pulsating jelly-like paste piece were a single whole constituting the very essence of a human residing in a corporal shell. It seemed to him this small beaming Something was a living indeed, perennial creature. He felt its invisible gaze at himself along with tension and some soul-oppressing yearning. And he understood what it was without any words. “Everyone’s alive, alive”, Major uttered in his mind. The creature perceived his thoughts precisely. It burst with smooth, incredibly warm play of colours, duplicating these tints on the jelly-like paste and leaving a similar appeasing and placatory sensation in Rebrov’s heart. And it suddenly dawned upon Rebrov that there was no death existing as such!

Such revelation astonished him, having opened the door to a world unknown before, but yet more than real, to a world of eternity, filling his life with a totally new sense of existence. Having come outside, Rebrov found himself in a world kind of familiar, but completely different at the same time. Flows of charged particles washed his body with a gust of quite palpable living power which people call “wind”. These particles penetrated the corporal shell and saturated with their energy other particles which transmitted their power to the rest by chain, generating feelings of vivacity and freshness in the entire organism.

The world was by no means painted in dark colours. It was shimmering with a fantastical light of life which Rebrov had never noticed before. Everything around was beaming with variegated colours. And there was no division into animate and inanimate objects. Everything was living in its own way, moving, uniting, acquiring unique scales of tints and tinges, coming apart into separate pulsating hues, transforming its states unusually...

Stunned with what he saw, Rebrov squatted on a porch edge. And only then he noticed that he was seeing in a strange mode like a chameleon. His range of vision widened significantly. He could watch almost everything located above, below, behind and sideways without turning his head. Only a small zone located behind and below remained invisible. He needed to turn his head slightly to observe that part of space. Rebrov could not understand what had happened to his eyesight. He closed his eyes, having covered them with his hand. Yet, although his eyelids were now closed, Rebrov strangely saw his own hand with the fingers out over the eyelids. Moreover, he saw everything happening around him as if there was no obstacle at all.

Rebrov removed his hand from his face in shock and looked at it. But then he discovered other surprising abilities of his eyesight. The more he focused his attention on his finger tip, the deeper his gaze delved into, enlarging the visible range numerous times like through a magnifying lens. Although Rebrov simultaneously felt he was holding his hand at the same distance from his eyes. He saw the patterned outline of his fingers in smallest details, in a form of quaint labyrinths. They resembled a dodging area indented with uneven ditches and flat hills. Another invisible world was disappearing behind this mysterious relief. A pink paste enveloped forked mouths of supple bluish tubes. The latter ones strongly pulsated, pushing impetuous flows of red liquid along their tangled passages with an enormous internal pressure. But inside this incredibly lively world there existed a still subtle world. Rebrov even felt a little dizzy of such a deep concentration. He mechanically diverted his look from his finger, and his eyesight became defocused again, restoring the finger in its habitual shape.

Trying to come to his senses, Rebrov switched his attention to sounds. Yet, there he also faced a unique phenomenon. He didn’t hear sounds as usual, but rather sensed those with his entire body. Major began to study the new talents of his body with unconcealed curiosity. First, he felt dogs’ barking. These waives seemed to be a living independent force with its own energy store. Springing up and passing their extremely short lifetime, they changed the surrounding space with their vibrations. Rebrov sensed how the resilient waves were hitting his body like sea surges rolling one after another, how they were washing him like a violent undercurrent would wash an underwater stone. He senses still other, more subtle noises and the living power of those energies.

Rebrov started focusing on various sensations with rapture. And there he revealed an absolutely marvelous picture of the universe. All the colourful hues of the surrounding space appeared to be nothing else than various energies of diverse wavelengths. Furthermore, all animate and inanimate objects were indeed energetic particles generating specific waves. Their variety and interaction impressed. The waves were bearers of diverse power and energy, moved at their own speeds, intensified each other meeting in the space, reflected, got absorbed or merged into a different energy. Observing this entire splendour, Rebrov unexpectedly made another astonishing discovery: this life wouldn’t end! There was no “death” notion in it. Energies representing the very essence of life simply turned from one state into the other, changing shapes. They existed perpetually!

Such discoveries took Rebrov’s breath away. A prodigious joy and a boundless love for all existing swept over him. He wanted to embrace the whole world and to dissolve completely in its stunning harmony. Gripped with inspiration, Rebrov delightedly looked at the vast space of the night sky sparkling with dazzling stars. From up there he felt noises which he had never heard before. Or rather there were not noises, but some symphony which composed all sounds into one lovely melody or charmed ears by separate sounding of a magnificent solo. This music enchanted with its soft modulation, with its uncommon internal beauty.

Rebrov enjoyed the harmonious sounding of the outer Space. He clearly felt some inner inseparable connection between himself and the wonderful universe. He had a feeling as if he knew exactly where and what is located: where there was a red-hot star, where there was a planet, where there was simply light of a long ago transformed energy of some extinct form.