“Parallel worlds,” I said, with a shrug. “Of course, that’s an explanation on the level of science fiction, but any other would be from the realm of fantasy. We can even surmise that it is certain variations on our world, the way that it might have been . . . alternative worlds that separated off at some time from ours . . .”

“Or was it our world that separated off from some other?” said Gesar. “All right, let’s accept that. Our science team can’t say anything that makes better sense in any case. And the Inquisition’s research centers wouldn’t have anything much to add . . . they’d only cloud the whole issue with their ‘subtle structures,’ ‘dark matter,’ and ‘quantum fluctuations.’ But still, what is the Twilight? Just six worlds that humankind hasn’t managed to foul up?”

“You can’t get that Tiger out of your head,” I said, realizing where he was leading.

“Of course,” Gesar said, nodding. “As long as we swear on the Light and the Darkness and receive a certain response that was defined ages ago”—Gesar waved his hand through the air and for an instant a small sphere of blinding white fire flared up on his palm—“we can regard it as some kind of law of physics. But the Tiger—he was alive. He spoke. He modeled his behavior according to ours. When an avalanche engulfs a skier, that’s a law of nature. But when the avalanche starts pursuing one single boy, who’s messing about in the snow at the foot of the mountain, and it actually carefully tosses everyone else aside or goes around them . . . that’s not just wet snow plus the force of gravity any longer. That’s intelligence.”

“The laws of nature are not intelligent,” I replied. “The force of gravity is not intelligent. Electricity is not intelligent. A savage looking at a television might assume that it’s a sapient being, but we—”

“A sapient being? Looking at a television these days, the only possible assumption is that it’s a loud-mouthed, hysterical madman suffering from progressive mental debility,” Anna Tikhonovna said derisively.

“What I mean is that the Tiger’s intelligence is by no means proof that the Twilight is intelligent,” I said stubbornly. “Was the Mirror—Vitalii Rogoza—intelligent? Of course. But at the same time he was spawned by the Twilight in order to maintain the balance.”

“The Twilight merely influenced an indeterminate Other, Vitalii Rogoza,” said Gesar. “And Rogoza acted intuitively, without really understanding what was going on. The Tiger’s a different matter.”

“All right,” I sighed. “I won’t argue. You’re not running me through all this just for the fun of it, boss. Or for the sake of my education.”

“Of course not,” Gesar said, nodding in agreement. “And Anna Tikhonovna’s not here by chance either. Oddly enough, she’s our greatest specialist on the living and quasi-rational manifestations of the Twilight. In other words—on folklore.”