Читать книгу To The Stars - Назар Валерьевич Валеев - Страница 13

The sun had barely risen, yet Tadek was already up. For the first time in a long while, he had slept astonishingly well. At first, he couldn’t quite grasp why, but a little later, as he brewed his coffee on the ancient stovetop, it suddenly dawned on him: for some reason, no one had made a racket through the night.

The usual noise, shouting, and strange movements at all hours had long been a constant in this dormitory ever since he’d been forced to hole up here, waking again and again to drunken quarrels, neighbors’ yelling, and their endless parade of shady-looking guests.

Tadek pulled back the faded striped curtain and opened the window, letting sunlight and crisp autumn air spill into the room. He ate his breakfast in silence, disturbed only by the chirping of street birds and the occasional hum of a car rushing past outside.

All weekend he had worked tirelessly on an important article, hardly pausing even for meals, shut up in his tiny, book-cluttered, musty apartment. And now, as he breathed in the freshness of morning, he found himself regretting that he hadn’t gone down to the pond yesterday to feed the swans. His old friends, whom he had, much to his shame, been avoiding for weeks, had invited him to their favorite bar for a pint or two of good old ale.

After graduating, Tadek devoted himself to science while teaching linguistics and world literature, and by the age of thirty-two he had already earned a professorship, a chair in his department, and a modest flat on campus which, by local standards, was considered something of a luxury.

Like most people wholly devoted to scholarship, Tadek was a little absent-minded, a little defenseless, and scarcely equipped with the practical wisdom of life. In truth, he was not well adapted to its harsher realities. The students loved this slightly awkward, ungainly-looking scholar, never at a loss for words and always ready with a droll remark, while his colleagues respected him for his professionalism and integrity.

He glanced at the clock and, realizing he was already late for his lecture, hurriedly dressed, grabbed his battered briefcase, slipped his glasses into the pocket of his coat, wrapped a scarf around his neck, and stepped out, closing the slightly creaking door behind him.

Although the light was on in the stairwell, a dense, cold fog shrouded the entire space, reducing visibility to almost nothing.

«For heaven’s sake, what are they cooking in there?» thought Tadek. «A madhouse, that’s what it is!»

The park, unusually quiet and nearly empty for a weekday morning, seemed not yet awake from sleep. A thin mist drifted over the mirror-like surface of the lake, where wild ducks floated peacefully, diving and resurfacing again and again, sending even ripples across the water. Sunlight played on the circles they made, shimmering so brightly it almost hurt the eyes.

Tadek took from his trouser pocket a large round pocket watch on a chain, checked the time, and, in a comically exaggerated imitation of the White Rabbit, exclaimed, «Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!»

The corridor of the university was silent. Classes had clearly begun already, and Tadek crept guiltily along the freshly washed floor, walking on tiptoe by the wall so as not to run into the notoriously ill-tempered cleaning lady. Entering the lecture hall, he was surprised to find only a few students lazily slumped in the back rows, half-asleep.

«And where is everyone? Have there been changes to the schedule?» he asked in bewilderment.

«Probably all in the main hall», replied the plumpest of the students, raising his head from the desk with an effort. «Watching the news.»

«What news could there possibly be on a Monday?!» muttered Tadek, beginning to lose patience. «Although, come to think of it, Mondays do make everyone act a little strange in their own way…»

He made his way up to the main hall, where a large information screen was showing the latest broadcasts. The place was packed with students – sitting, standing, even lying across the windowsills, but despite the crowd, there reigned a deathly silence that would have made any lecturer envious.

Not far off, Tadek spotted the familiar polished head of Dean Martin, who was listening to the announcer with the same thoughtful attention as everyone else. Bald, slightly tanned, and of middle age, he bore an uncanny resemblance to Humpty Dumpty, only this one wore a handsome crimson tie with broad stripes.

«What happened?» Tadek whispered, putting on his glasses, which he had just polished with a handkerchief. «Feels almost like a war!»

«You mean you haven’t heard?!» the dean exclaimed, half in astonishment, half in disbelief. «It’s been going on for two days now – people are vanishing all over the world, simply evaporating into thin air! Mostly it’s been noticed in various correctional facilities, but in some countries entire governments have disappeared overnight. Can you imagine? A proper mess in the making, I tell you.»

«Still», Tadek said, «there’s a strange kind of pattern here, don’t you think? Almost as if the Creator suddenly remembered His own creation and decided it was time to clean things up.»

«The important part is that people finally remembered Him», Dean Martin replied. «Everywhere you look, there are prayers and services going on – everyone’s calling out in their own way. Come on, Tadek, I’ve brewed some tea. I just hope it hasn’t gone cold yet. The day’s gone to hell anyway, and we always have plenty to talk about.»

«Well, at least we’re sticking to the main scientific principle», Tadek said with a crooked grin. «When everything’s going to hell, professors drink tea with buns and jam.»