Free Night Watch 05 - The New Watch by Sergei Lukyanenko

hear Semyon. And I can’t contact him. Someone else try!’
    Olga closed her eyes too.
    Glyba applied his palm to his forehead picturesquely.
    Jermenson chewed on his lips.
    Svetlana frowned intensely.
    But I took out my mobile and pressed one of the ‘hot keys’.
    ‘Yes, Antokha?’ Semyon answered cheerfully.
    ‘Where are you?’
    ‘Me? I’m at Olya and Kesha’s place. Drinking tea. Telling them all about our wonderful school for artistically gifted children.’
    ‘Gesar can’t make contact with you,’ I said
    There was a brief pause, and then Semyon said: ‘You know, I can’t make contact either. With anyone. It’s like . . . everything’s gone blank . . .’
    ‘Tell him we’re on our way,’ ordered Gesar, walking rapidly towards the door. ‘Anton, Mark, Olga, you’re with me! Svetlana, Sergei, you’re in charge of the Watch.’
    ‘I’m not on the staff!’ Svetlana exclaimed indignantly.
    ‘Consider yourself drafted,’ Gesar flung out without looking round.
    ‘Sveta, if we start arguing now, the child might be killed,’ Olga said gently as she got up to follow Gesar. ‘And Semyon too. Do you understand?’
    And Svetlana, who I could remember beating off Gesar’s attempts to get her involved in the Watch’s business at least a hundred times, backed down immediately. She just asked as we left: ‘What exactly do I have to do?’
    ‘Kill everything strange that tries to get into the office,’ Gesar replied.
    ‘I’m a doctor, not a killer!’ Sveta exclaimed indignantly.
    ‘Every good doctor has his own graveyard,’ snapped Gesar.
    When we ran out into the yard, the boom across the entrance was already raised and Alisher and Garik were getting into the patrol van – a battered old Japanese SUV. They were obviously on duty-call today.
    ‘Mark Emmanuilovich, please join the two young watchmen, if you would be so kind,’ Gesar said briskly.
    Apparently he seriously believed that we needed to have at least one Higher Other in each vehicle.
    We got into the old BMW that Gesar had been riding around in for as long as I could remember. I sat in the front, Olga was on the back seat and Gesar was at the wheel. He didn’t usually sit there, I wasn’t even sure that the Great One knew how to drive a car.
    But it turned out that he did – and how! We went flying out into the street and roared straight off up the oncoming lane, which apparently seemed less crowded with traffic to Gesar. We were spared the choruses of loud curses from drivers about wild, irresponsible Duma deputies and bureaucrats by just one thing.
    The car was invisible.
    And moreover, Gesar didn’t use an ordinary spell like the Sphere of Negation or other similar ones. We were entirely invisible. We were an empty space, hurtling along the road like a draught, a void as far as any other driver could see.
    To be quite honest, this is pretty stressful, even when the driver at the wheel is a Higher Magician who could well have more than a hundred years of driving experience.
    But it turned out that Gesar had no intention of playing tag with the motorists of Moscow. A moment later the car slipped into the Twilight.
    Any Other can enter the Twilight. And taking someone else with you, or carrying something in, is a simple technical matter.
    But to drag an entire car into the Twilight!
    ‘Remember the way we rode into the Twilight on a battle elephant?’ Olga suddenly asked with a laugh.
    Was she joking or serious? Who could tell . . .
    Now we were hurtling along through Twilight Moscow. The first layer is the one closest to reality. Here there are even buildings, cars and people. Everything is grey, dull and slow – but still real. Almost real, that is. Except that blue moss has been added to the roads and the walls of the buildings . . .
    Our car had changed radically too. The old but sturdy German automobile seemed to melt: its dimensions shifted, the interior became far more old-fashioned, the wheel in Gesar’s hands shrank and