Privideniya - Chapter 28
"The past isn't dead," Vulich said, stirring his tea with a thoughtful flourish. "Sometimes, it isn't even past. Do you agree, Nikolai?"
Kolya wrinkled his nose a little. "If you say so, Lieutenant."
The kid had been hanging around a lot lately, Vulich thought, keeping an eye on him. He hadn't been subtle about it, but then, Vulich wasn't sure a guileless boy like that would even know how.
"Why do you always agree with me?" Vulich asked idly.
"You are a commanding officer."
"That doesn't mean I'm right. You ought to stop and think more often. You can't always trust authority, you know."
"I trust you, Lieutenant."
Vulich sniffed disdainfully.
"…besides, you'd get mad at me if I said you were wrong."
"I would do no such thing, Nikolai."
Kolya laughed, and came out of the little tiled alcove that formed the kitchen. He sat in the chair on the other side of the table, facing Vulich. "I've seen you get mad before."
"Nonsense."
Kolya tapped a fingertip thoughtfully against the tabletop. "One time, Vassily Steppanovich asked you when you were going to return those missiles to Cuba, and you broke his nose."
"Vassily Steppanovich was being disrespectful."
"I thought he was just joking," Kolya muttered. "I laughed."
"Did you know, in the 40s, a government propaganda agency wrote and distributed anti-Soviet jokes? The idea was to let men work out their aggressions against those in authority through humor."
"That's really cool, Lieutenant. I didn't know that."
Vulich sighed. "What I'm trying to say, Nikolai, is that just because you laugh at a remark does not mean it has no teeth."
"I don't agree," Kolya declared abruptly.
"Really?" Vulich blinked. "Why?"
"I don't know. But I don't." Kolya grinned. "Was that better, Lieutenant? Was that what you wanted?"
"It doesn't count if you don't believe it. Try to have some conviction, Nikolai. I know you'll never be a fighter, but an iron constitution can go a long way towards getting you what you want."
"Oh, I don't want much," Kolya said. But when he noticed Vulich's expression, he straightened a little.
"But I have convictions," he said. "Like, a ton of them."
"Oh really? Like what?"
Vulich sipped his tea. He felt a deep affection for Kolya, almost the same as the fondness he had felt for his younger brother, dead all these long years, the victim of a burst appendix that the doctor had come ten minutes too late to remove. All the same, Kolya's complacency troubled him deeply, for Vulich had known too many men who were undone by complacency. Even his grandfather Oleg, that proud counterrevolutionary, who had survived the Gulag – twenty years at hard labor – and never once recanted the words that had landed him there, even he had conceded. In the end, even he had not put up a fight, when Vulich had packed a single bag and hitched a ride on one of the mining trucks headed north toward the Russian border.
They had corresponded for three years after that, and never once had Oleg mentioned the gun. The Red Army issue that Vulich had taken from his grandfather's trunk, and tucked into the back of his jeans before he left. He had never said a word about it, so great was his apathy.
Vulich looked up at Kolya. The boy's cheeks were hollow, his eyes deeply sunken. His face was more Scandinavian than true Russian. He was from the far north, near the White Sea, and he was a mongrel mix of Finnish and Russian and tribal blood.
"There must be something," Vulich said. "There must be something you believe in."
"I believe in you, Lieutenant."
"Oh, please."
"No, really, I mean it."
"While I appreciate the sentiment, Nikolai, that's absolutely the most nauseating thing you've ever said to me."
"But it's true. I think you're a good Lieutenant. I've seen you fight; I know how brave you can be. When I see how unafraid you are, it makes me feel… like it's dumb to be scared at all."
Vulich was silent for a moment, his hands sliding thoughtfully around the warm cup of tea.
"I never said I wasn't afraid."
"You don't have to," Kolya replied. "Besides, I know the only reason Colonel Gurlukovich took me on was because you asked him to."
"Where did you hear that?"
Kolya shrugged. "Around."
"Listen to me, Nikolai. You are a soldier in this army. I hold you to the same standards as any other man under my command. Just because your duties are different…"
"See, Lieutenant?"
Kolya grinned, showing a few missing teeth. "Colonel Gurlukovich would never have talked like that. So I know I'm here because of you. I never thanked you for that. I guess, I'm probably alive because of what you did back then."
"Ridiculous, Nikolai," Vulich said, but his voice had dropped to almost a whisper. He lowered his eyes, and was suddenly very intrigued by his tea.
"I hope," he said, "that you have some measure of faith in me. I am your commanding officer, after all."
"Are you saying you don't count, then? As a conviction."
"No. I don't count. What's something else you believe?"
"Do you promise you won't get mad?" Kolya said. "Because I'm telling you this as a friend, not as a Lieutenant, okay?"
"What kind of a barbarian do you think I am? Of course I won't get mad at you."
Kolya leaned in close, lowering his voice.
"I think Shalashaska is really nice. I think… he's really on our side."
"What?"
Kolya sprang to his feet, stumbling away a few steps. "You said you wouldn't get mad!"
"I didn't think you'd say something so absurd!"
"It's not absurd! I think he's a good man! You're just stubborn. You decided you didn't want to trust him, and so now you never will."
"And give him a chance to stab me in the back as soon as it's turned? He wants us dead, you know. You, and I. All of us. He'll kill us, just for sport, if we let him."
Kolya paled. "How do you know?"
"And don't believe, even for a second, that he did not hold the gun that killed Sergei. And Olga. He won't be satisfied until we're all dead, Nikolai. That's the kind of man he is. I don't know how you can be so naive."
Kolya cringed, and stepped back so his shoulder blades struck the wall. He yelped softly, but the sound was more anguished than afraid. He watched Vulich with a wild, cautious gaze, the eyes of a wild animal lost in a suburban neighborhood.
Vulich sighed, lifting his tea and sipping it. He did not set the cup aside until he was certain his temper had receded some. He had seen Kolya wire a bomb without breaking a sweat many times, and he wished that the boy could carry some of that steadiness over into the rest of his life.
"I am sorry, Nikolai."
Kolya straightened up, though he seemed reluctant to leave the support of the wall at his back. "Lieutenant?"
"I'm not angry," Vulich said. "Are you satisfied? However, I don't think it's prudent to place our faith in someone who isn't a member of our ranks."
"You're saying you don't trust him."
Vulich stood up, and crossed the distance between them to set a hand on Kolya's shoulder companionably. "You shouldn't take it personally. There aren't many people I trust."
Kolya looked up at him. "Do you trust me?"
"Not if you keep talking about Revolver Ocelot, I won't," Vulich said.
With some difficulty, Kolya's lips twitched into a little smile. "Thanks, Lieutenant. It's not like I'm going to start liking him more than you or anything."
"I should hope not," Vulich said haughtily.
Kolya leaned away from the wall, swaying slightly into Vulich's hold. He put his hands out in front of him, splaying the fingers wide, as though, for a moment, he intended to touch him.
"What's this all about?" Vulich said.
Kolya opened his mouth to reply, but he never got a chance.
The sound of breaking glass choked the words in his throat, and all that came out was a startled gasp. He jumped like a housecat, cringing away from Vulich's touch. The Lieutenant turned back, and knelt to pick up the pieces of the shattered teacup from the floor.
"Strange," he said, collecting the shards in one hand. "I thought I had set it back from the edge."
"I thought so, too," Kolya murmured. He hung back, circling at a distance. He seemed reluctant to come any closer.
Vulich glanced up at him. "Are you all right? I was a little startled, too, I admit. Can you find something to mop this up with?"
"Yeah," Kolya whispered.
Overhead, the fluorescent lights flickered. Just once, like the contraction of a single heartbeat. Kolya gasped, and flinched as though he expected a blow to fall.
"What's gotten into you, Nikolai?" Vulich said. He lifted the shards of the cup in his hands, putting them on the tabletop.
"Nothing…" Kolya said, but his voice was slick with fear, like a sheen of cold, clammy sweat.
"Doesn't sound like nothing," Vulich said.
Kolya tossed him a towel from the kitchen, and still he hung back, shifting, anxiously from foot to foot. "It just seems like a lot of weird things go on around here. Have you noticed?"
"Weird things?" Vulich echoed skeptically.
"Yeah. You know, flickering lights. Weird noises."
Vulich shrugged. "The generators act up sometimes. And the noises… they could be anything. The air ducts, maybe. There's still a wing of this place under construction, you know."
"I found a dead hornet yesterday."
"So what?"
"It's the middle of winter."
Vulich sighed, and stood up. "Well, then, it should come as no surprise that it was dead, right?"
Kolya looked away. "You don't have to make fun of me, Lieutenant."
"I'm not making fun of you, Nikolai. I'm trying to tell you that you're letting your imagination run away with you. Besides, I thought places needed to have a history before they could be haunted."
"I never said anything about a haunting…"
"You didn't have to," Vulich said. "I know a ghost story when I hear it."
He dropped the damp towel in the sink, and wiped his hands on his uniform. "There are worse things than ghosts in Groznyj Grad, you know. There are things that frighten me more than the walking dead ever could."
