Chapters (37)
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Part One - Dubious Intent
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Part Two - Dubious Times
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Part Three - Dubious Doings
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- About the Author
- Also by Sergei Lukyanenko
- Back Ad
- Credits
- About the Publisher
He wasn’t one of those people who don’t have a television on principle, or who proudly declare that they haven’t switched it on for years. To tell the truth, he did watch it sometimes—the news almost every day, and even some film or other a couple of times a year, if he came across it on the airwaves by chance.
But right now he was watching TV thoughtfully, with serious intent. And the fact that he was switching from channel to channel every five seconds by no means indicated that he wasn’t concentrating.
Click.
“Accused, why did you go to visit the victim?”
“Well . . . I . . . wanted to have a drink with him . . . And he . . .”
Click.
“. . . the verdict of the court is thirteen years’ imprisonment to be served in a strict-regime penal colony. The defense have already stated that they will appeal, and the guilt of the accused is in no way . . .”
Click.
“. . . went off course and failed to enter orbit. But the specialists emphasize that the satellite was insured . . .”
Click.
“. . . the size of the average pension will increase by eleven percent to five thousand, nine hundred and seventy-four roubles . . .”
Click.
“. . . and those terrible years, the decades of repression and tyranny, did not break the artist’s spirit, he carried on working and exhibiting his works, in defiance of the Communist regime . . .”
Click.
“. . . advanced technologies. The scientists tell us that using them to produce nanotechnological cement will make possible a significant improvement in the quality . . .”
Click.
“. . . it is proposed to remove the children from the family, since the parents’ level of income is inadequate to provide appropriate care . . .”
Click.
“What I say is this, commander: if we try to withdraw, their blocking units will gun us down, but if we surrender, then at least there’s some kind of chance . . .”
Click.
“. . . the largest in Europe! And this is indisputable proof that the policy being pursued is correct . . .”
Click.
“The oysters in this restaurant are the best in Moscow, but the wine really is quite pricey—I couldn’t find anything decent for less than five or six thousand . . .”
Gorodetsky turned the television off, even though he still had ten channels left. He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Anyone who said TV wasn’t worth watching was a fool. It was just that you ought to do it once every three or four months. That way it was more than just a blurred flickering in your eyes.
But, of course, if you only watched it every three or four years, that was even more instructive.
He walked over to the window and looked at the low gray sky hanging over the city. Then he slowly rubbed his hand over the cold glass.
The clouds parted and a chink opened up in the sky—a tiny little eye of dark blue. Somewhere behind the shroud of clouds the sun was setting.