Chapter 33

The second part

Spring meetings

Chapter eight.

Without turning anywhere, the skiers had been moving along the right bank of the river for about an hour. Matvey Vlasovich immediately noticed that the river gently bends around the mountain, making a smooth arc and slightly descending. In some places, she breaks her channel through narrow crevices between the rocks. Following her, people had to take off their skis here, pressing close to the sheer walls, with difficulty squeezing further. In such places they were especially careful. The flow of water in the gorges is swift. Easily washes away the thickest ice shell. Even in very severe frosts, polynyas form here.

It became more and more difficult to go, but this was more than compensated by the pristine beauty of nature. To admire it, as they say, to your heart's content, there was no time, but fleeting glances were enough. More than once Matvey Vlasovich caught himself thinking that people rarely appear in these parts. And perhaps only Tretyakov managed to get into such a wilderness.

“Maybe even this strange person. Georgy Mikhailov. Although ... who knows where he lives "

When the still distant sun lightened the sky a little, and the darkness of the night gradually began to recede, Butakov began to notice the signs of spring more often. With each step they appeared more significantly. The snow was still lying, but the snowdrifts had already subsided. They had ice on them. So, during the day they thawed under the sun, and at night they were caught by frost.

— Smoke break? Ten minutes?

Matvey Vlasovich himself wanted to offer a break, so he willingly agreed. Sitting down on boulders free of snow, he noticed with surprise that they no longer smelled of icy cold.

- It seems that they have not gone far, but it seems that it is already real spring here.

Yuri confirmed:

— Yes, it's always warmer here by five or ten degrees. Do not be surprised. From here begins the microclimate zone.

Butakov unbuttoned his jacket and pushed his hat back to the back of his head. He was clearly interested. I wanted to ask more about this. But Tretyakov was already in a hurry:

- We need to go through the same sunrise. So, all questions later. As agreed. We need to make less noise now. Imagine that you are on a hunt. The quieter we are, the better. And try to keep following me.

Little by little, the mystery of the campaign began to cause mixed feelings in Matvey Vlasovich.

“Like a game in a pioneer camp, honestly!. But who knows, maybe this makes sense, he thought with annoyance, but decided not to object. Let everything take its course.

Sunrise was already very close when Tretyakov stopped, took off his skis, stuck them in the snow. At his sign, Butakov did the same. He also hung his backpack on the bough of a nearby pine tree, leaving only binoculars with him.

I noticed how gently the guide steps through the snow and clearings on the hillocks. In addition, almost does not speak or goes to a whisper. Everything looked like the behavior of hunters, ready to meet with a forest animal. Who does not want to scare Tretyakov? Or maybe he avoids attracting someone's attention to himself? But who is so feared in this wilderness?

Finally, Tretyakov moved forward again. Not full length. Trying to get as low as possible to the ground. Matvey Vlasovich followed him. His interest in the journey flared up, then weakened, replaced by slight irritation. Nevertheless, the experience gained over many years of living in nature, in the taiga, did not allow me to relax. He saw and heard everything now.

The ice on the river was completely cleared of snow drifts. He still retained the thickness, but became especially transparent. The banks became smoother, more like a man-made embankment, specially laid out with identical cobblestones. The silence of the taiga was occasionally emphasized by the voices of still sleepy birds, yes, if you go very close to the shore, you could hear how the current “plays” with stones at the bottom.

The men left behind about another five kilometers. The river bank in this place is densely overgrown with young trees. In some places, far to the right, rocky ledges were visible, and the horizon was obscured by centuries-old larches and Siberian cedars.

They followed each other, silently. Listen carefully to everything.

Suddenly, the forest parted. Ahead appeared a high rocky cliff. By some miracle, a shrub clung to the roots of a surface devoid of soil. The river was deep down. Tretyakov almost crawled to the edge of the cliff. Butakov followed him. At the very top, an amazing picture of the mighty Siberian taiga opened before him.

The gorge, more like a huge bowl, was surrounded by mountains, the spacious ledges of which resembled terraces. Covered with coniferous forest, they gradually became higher and higher. The furthest peaks were crowned with snow caps. Only a bright serene moon, and thousands of stars illuminated the taiga.

Butakov caught his breath from what he saw, but he did not utter a sound, stopped by the gaze of Tretyakov, who held binoculars in his hands and was waiting for something.

Matvey Vlasovich was less tense and did not tire of watching everything that surrounded them.

Here the sound of the river became clearer. Glancing down, Butakov saw through the transparent ice directly below them a rather large rounded depression. It looked like a huge well, somehow illuminated from below with a bluish light. And sleepy fish slowly swam right under the ice. Mountain trout. Apparently, the water fell into the gorge not from the channel, but from the hole in the "well". Matvey Vlasovich saw this for the first time.

Trying to understand who and why needed this complex structure here, he forgot for a moment about Tretyakov. But he reminded himself. He touched his shoulder and gestured to the binoculars. Matvey Vlasovich looked into the eyepieces, saw through them only the lake, which occupied the entire hollow of the gorge. The water in it shimmered under the light of the moon. Weird. Water without ice. In winter. He was also embarrassed by the fact that the mirror of the reservoir was too high. An experienced geologist peered into the dusk with bated breath. He could not explain the strange phenomenon. Maybe a mirage?

Tretyakov, meanwhile, looked again at his watch, then directed the binoculars to the sky above the opposite mountain. From there, slowly, as if reluctantly, a reflection of the first ray of the rising sun appeared. Yuri signaled. Attention!

Matvey Vlasovich looked through the binoculars again and froze. Before his eyes, what he took for the surface of the lake disappeared. Now it was already clear - right in front of them, a giant dome of silvery material was slowly opening.

The lower its “gates” fell, the more clearly the outlines of the buildings inside appeared. Arranged in a circle, they were separated from each other by light walls. Invisible devices gently illuminated the entire space under the dome. Everywhere, instead of lawns or flower beds, there were vases with flowers. It was impossible to see what was inside the dwellings, but their inhabitants had already appeared from the doors. Men and women. This could be seen from the clothes and hair. Men in identical white suits, similar to the full summer uniform of sailors, women's light dresses were more diverse. Blue, pink, cream. Long and short. Some had light scarves draped over their shoulders. The faces could not be seen. They were too far down. Yes, and their figures looked blurry. They seemed to be floating in the air. And there were no children. Only adults, almost the same height. They were all heading for the wide tent in the center. How many were there? One hundred? Or more?

The sun rose higher and higher. Its rays were already breaking through the distant mountain terraces covered with forest. A little more and they will illuminate the entire gorge.

The wings of the dome froze when a few meters remained to the ground. Now they have changed colors. Somewhere they darkened, and somewhere they became completely transparent. They did not completely separate the structure from the surrounding nature. Stairs descended from each individual dwelling. They led to the river, which flowed very close by.

The lower floor was visible through the translucent floor. It was dark there, only from the numerous signal lights one could guess that there might be some kind of laboratories or shops, workshops.

The stunned Matvey Vlasovich could not tear himself away from the binoculars, tried to see the details, but Tretyakov persistently pulled his hand, demanding to go down from the cliff.

Only when they reached the place where the skis were waiting for them, he ordered almost in a whisper:

- We're leaving. We have very little time to cross the border.

Butakov was puzzled again.

"The border? What's the border? Why is it necessary to rush to it?

But there was no time or energy left for questions. From tension and excitement, Matvey Vlasovich was in a fever. He almost automatically got on his skis and moved after Tretyakov. Now he did not notice anything around. My head was empty. The body became naughty, the heart was pounding, the breathing was uneven. The pain in my chest grew. He noticeably lagged behind Yuri, who turned around several times, did not urge, but did not slow down either. Only an hour later the first halt was made. The sun has completely dispersed the darkness. Tretyakov carefully peered into the companion's pale face, sandwiches, a piece of ham and a small vial with some dark liquid.

“Nothing, everything will pass now. Do you have medicine with you?

Matvey Vlasovich only nodded in response.

- Good. But first, have a drink from here. About half. This will give strength.

Butakov obediently took a sip from the vial. The tart taste burned his mouth for a moment. After catching his breath a little, he took out a medicine, which he still did not remember.

Tretyakov stood nearby for some time. Only when he saw that the pallor had disappeared from the face of his companion did he start the fire. Fire it up. He built a simple suspension for a teapot, went to the river for water. Soon the aroma of herbs and meat fried on homemade skewers filled the air. It was only now that they both remembered that they hadn't eaten anything in almost eight hours. Hearty sandwiches and tea did their job. The fire of the fire and the sun warmed. Gradually the fatigue went away. But it was clearly far from peace of mind. Matvey Vlasovich decided to himself that it was time to talk.

“Yuri, won’t we stop playing hide-and-seek?” I will not move from this place until you finally answer my questions.

Tretyakov not very willingly agreed.

- Let's talk.

- What was it? Can you explain to me what it was? Who are these ... Are they people at all?

Tretyakov looked him straight in the eyes and wearily dropped:

- You saw everything yourself. What can I add? I don't know much about them either.

Butakov interrupted impatiently:

Most importantly, are they human?

Tretyakov still did not dare to have a frank conversation, he hesitated. But realizing that Butakov was ready to explode, he answered with force:

“Not really people. But they are like us. I must have noticed. But what does it matter?

“So how is it, it doesn’t matter?” More like it has.

- Well, what will it give you if you find out that they are not people? Do you want to tell everyone about it?

- Well, why not? They live next to us. So we need to know who they are, where they come from, what they want.

- You still do not understand? These are the very "people of the taiga". They've been here for a long time. But no one has been able to discover their secrets.

- So, it's time.

Tretyakov sighed.

- It's time for us, but they don't. And, if we insist, they will easily find another place on Earth. Have you seen their technology? They will build such a “house” anywhere. Where they won't be disturbed.

He paused and added thoughtfully:

“It is possible that they have already been forced to look for a quiet corner.

- So they have been roaming the planet for a long time? Do you believe in this fantasy?

“And what you saw with your own eyes today doesn’t tell you anything?”

“I saw a lot with my eyes, but I also have brains. I need to deal with everything that I spied on.

Not knowing what else to add, Butakov fell silent. He tried to put his thoughts in order. Understand what is important to everyone, and what is secondary. Which, in fact, of all this has to do with him, with his family. And why did Tretyakov promise to show him something that should have explained a lot to him, but instead completely confused him?

There was a pause at the fire. Only the crackling of burning logs broke the silence. The men were finishing their meat cakes and did not immediately notice two birds that had flown down to them from a nearby pine tree. Cautiously, in tiny leaps, they approached Matvey Vlasovich. Beady eyes gleamed, a simple outfit shone in the sun with multicolored colors.

Butakov crumbled a piece of cake into his palm. Afraid to scare away the birds, he did not throw bread, but poured crumbs very close to him. After waiting a little, the birds grew bolder. Having pecked at the treat, they wandered around the fire a little more, fluttered onto Butakov’s knees, making sure that he no longer had anything to eat, and returned to the tree. Soon they heard their singing.

***

Today, Evdokia Alexandrovna, for the first time in a long time, slept peacefully that night. Without dreams, where Olga took Matveyka away from her forever. Where she tried to fight her with all her might, but someone else's hands held her. These heavy pictures made me wake up from my own scream. And they didn't let me sleep again. A conversation with the doctor brought a long-awaited reassurance. Around six o'clock she was awakened by a noise outside the window. A low horse neigh and someone's voice. Looking out into the yard and recognizing the grandson in the rider, she was already habitually amazed at the sharp changes in his character. He never liked the morning. I had a hard time getting up for school. And here...

There were soft voices in the kitchen. The son and daughter-in-law were leaving for St. Petersburg. Igor is on a business trip, and Lyudmila took the opportunity to walk around her beloved city.

Evdokia Alexandrovna rejoiced at their return.

- When you arrived?

- At night. They entered from the back door, they didn't want to wake you up.

- Yes? And I wouldn't have heard from you today. She slept soundly.

- Mom, how did you manage to get our sleepyhead out of bed at such an early hour?

Lyudmila picked up:

- Yes, and saddle Batyr?

“But I don’t have any merit in this, imagine,” the hostess of the house explained good-naturedly, sitting down at the table. - He got up. And in general, we will not know him soon.

- Yes? How so?

- While you were gone, he bombarded me with "fives" in mathematics. We didn't expect this at all. Although my grandfather tried many times to instill in him a love for the exact sciences.

Igor confirmed:

- Yeah. It also attracted me to it. Although the guy generally grew up as a clear humanitarian.

- Most of all, Batyr is pleased with him now. Learned to take care of him. Feed, drink.

Igor grinned.

“It’s high time not only to think about yourself.

Lyudmila suddenly sharply objected:

- Well, hello. What are you fantasizing about him? He is both a loafer and a clumsy, and he didn’t even come out with brains ...

The reaction was unexpected for the usually restrained and gentle Lyudmila. It seems that she was seriously offended for her son.

Igor exchanged glances with his mother, tried to reassure his wife:

- But who calls him a loafer? Do not forget that our grandfather used to like to sleep in the morning. Yes, and during the day he could take a nap for an hour. But no one considers him lazy.

The conversation did not have time to end, as steps were heard on the terrace, the door swung wide open. Matthew stood at the door. Smiling, rosy-cheeked, in an open jacket, he looked completely happy now.

— Oh, parents are at home! Greetings. I didn't hear when you arrived.

Without waiting for an answer, he went to the stove, added water to the empty kettle, turned it on and asked in a businesslike manner:

- Who will do what? Sandwiches or scrambled eggs?

The three adults contemplated him for a few seconds and then laughed at the same time.

- Wow, what fun! Did I say something wrong? Or is my nose covered in soot?

Igor hugged his son, patted him on the back:

- Everything is fine with you. We are laughing at our thoughts here.

The kettle boiled and whistled. Matvey waved his hand nonchalantly, turned to the stove and began to prepare breakfast. The father helped him.

Lyudmila and Evdoky Alexandrovna silently looked at them. The sixteen-year-old teenager had not only outstripped his father in the last month, but had clearly become broader in his shoulders.

After breakfast, after seeing Matvey to school, and his parents to work, Evdokia Alexandrovna went about her usual business. Cleaning, dairy. Cooking. The busy time went by quickly. Occasionally she wanted to leave everything and dial her husband's number, to hear his voice. Only his words that he would call himself in the evening kept him from this.

***

It was quiet in the taiga house all day. In the morning, discovering that he was left behind by the owner, Pavel had breakfast and fed the dogs. Played with them on the street, read. After dinner, he often went outside with binoculars, peered in the direction of the river. There was a morning track from two pairs of skis. The day was calm and serene. But the expectation of the return of the men became more and more unbearable. Pavel tried to light a small stove to cook food. But for some reason, the firewood flared up badly, the stove began to smoke. Altai sneezed, coughed and began to scrape the door, demanding to let him out.

“Now, now, wait a minute. And then we'll both suffocate here.

While Pavel was trying to understand what he was doing wrong, Altai burst into barking. This is how he usually greeted guests. Forgetting about the stove, Pavel rushed outside. But he did not see anyone. He turned to enter the hut, but then a man appeared in front of him as if from nowhere. From surprise, Pavel did not immediately recognize Mikhailov in him.

- Well? Did the men leave you alone to housework?

Georgy smiled as if nothing had happened, stroking Altai with one hand, and holding out a heavy backpack to the young man with the other.

- There are a few guests here. I heard you respect all sorts of pies? So Lena, the hostess of the hotel, baked them for you. Sweet and with meat.

Discouraged by Mikhailov's unexpected appearance, Pavel answered inconsistently.

Yeah, they didn't even wake me up. But how did you get here? I just looked through binoculars. I didn't see anyone.

— And I went from there, on the other side.

Mikhailov vaguely waved his hand in the direction of the mountain, at the foot of which a stream flowed. Not very high, it abruptly ended right at its shore. Climbing and descending the rocks was possible only with special equipment. There Pavel, as a child, sometimes practiced rock climbing with his father. That's why he shook his head in disbelief.

“There is no road on the other side at this time of year. I know these places. In winter, there is only one way here, across the river.

“Well then, show me where my footprints are?”

In the snow, in fact, only two fresh ski tracks were clearly visible, and the prints of the paws of some birds. Pavel scratched the back of his head in bewilderment, but there was no time to think about it for a long time. Smoke wafted from the open door.

- So, boy, what's on fire there?

Thick blue smoke hung in the house. Mikhailov went up to the stove, looked around and, going around it, opened the second view from the side.

“Hmm, interesting construction here by the chimney. You have to ask the owner what's the point. But you, it turns out, only slightly opened the pipe. That's why the traction is bad. Smoke goes into the room.

Paul tried to justify himself.

“I never drowned it myself. Here is a fire in the forest in any weather, I can do it without problems. And ovens. It's not mine. We have gas at home. And here always either Yuri did it or my father. With a Russian oven, I would not have coped at all. I thought this one was easier.

— Yes, how is it? Father missed it. The stove in the house is the most important thing. There is no house without a stove. Usually there is nothing complicated with either Russian or this one. But here she is with a secret.

Georgry took off his jacket and hat, opened the door wide for ventilation, and began to kindle. The firewood quickly caught fire, the chimney buzzed.

- What are we going to cook? We have little time, soon we will have to feed our hunters.

Did they go hunting?

- We'll ask them. Tell me what needs to be done.

— I wanted to bake cakes. But now there are pies. Found fish in the glacier. I defrosted her. I was going to fry. It's big enough for everyone.

- Well done. You did better with this. And the cakes need to be baked. Needed tomorrow.

With four hands, Grigory and Pavel began to cook. Mikhailov asked the young man about his father, about his family, about his plans. He listened, but his thoughts were far from the taiga zaimka. In a village on the edge of the tundra. In the school hall.

***

After the audience finally dispersed after the concert, he returned there with Lena Egorova. hotel manager. They have been friends with her for a long time. Together, they often helped Olga Solovieva in decorating the hall or cleaning up after the choir's performances.

They enjoyed these evenings together. In essence, they were equally lonely, although they were always among people.

Only when there were three of us, the feeling of restlessness receded. They never admitted this to anyone, and to themselves, too. It was an unspoken taboo and brought them closer together. Each concert of the school choir was a holiday for them.

So yesterday, together they put the hall in order, went to the music class. It was an ordinary school office. Only huge windows overlooking the tundra gave it a special comfort. Especially in winter, when from here a view of the snow-covered immense distance opened up.

We drank tea, Olga and Lena sang softly. George loved to listen to them. Folk songs. Russian, Ukrainian. Sometimes unfamiliar motives appeared. Olga wrote them herself. Both words and music. They scared Lena a little. There was too much grief already experienced in them. Today, for the first time, she said it out loud:

- Isn't it too early for you, Olenka, to talk about longing? You need to think about love. Without love, there is no disappointment and longing.

She said lightly, half in jest, and in response Olga looked into her eyes and asked dully:

“But what if it already happened?” Both love and disappointment. Only sadness remained.

Lena did not have time to object. Mikhailov hastened to change the subject. Too hastily, as if afraid of something. The girl was even more surprised by this, but did not ask questions. Moreover, she, too, had not yet had time to discuss the letter from Novosibirsk with her friend.

Have you decided anything about a new job yet?

Olga shook her head.

- Not yet. Think. Yes, I would like some advice.

- With whom? If you need my advice, then I'm against it, - Lena hurried, - with whom will I stay here?

- Yes, to whom - to whom, but you will not be bored. Your hotel will never be empty.

- What is a hotel? This is work.

Olga snuggled closer to her shoulder.

“Yes, I just said so. And I can't do without you.

After parting with Olga after midnight, Mikhailov and Lena Egorova went to the hotel together. Both were unusually silent.

- Do you think Olga will leave? Without her, the village will change. At least for me. And anyway, there will be nothing for me to do here.

Mikhailov calmly assured:

“No, of course he won’t. Bye. Why would she? She has a destiny here.

He paused and added softly:

You don't have to be sad either. Why did you record yourself as an old woman. Whole life ahead.

Elena slowed her pace and exclaimed with sudden fervor:

- Why are you like this? After all, you know about my trouble! Who needs me like this?

Mikhaylov answered in the same calm manner.

“You are not the only one who has had trouble in your life. A lot of people "wounded" by fate. Sometimes they need to unite in order to live. For example, you know Tretyakov. He has been living alone in the taiga for a long time. His entire family died. Wife and two daughters. Small.

“I never met him, but I heard that there is such a hermit. Do you know him?

"A little," George answered evasively.

The girl thought.

- So that's why people go to the taiga. I sympathize with him. And I even admire it. Living alone is not for everyone.

“Do you think no one admires you?” You are brave too. I moved here from Moscow, from my family. You pull the hotel alone. With this, anyone will go to the ends of the world. But you don't take anyone seriously. Proud.

Lena waved her hand and walked faster. Only on the threshold of the hotel threw:

“You haven’t teamed up with anyone. And it would be time.

Mikhailov tried to turn the conversation into a joke. Raised hands:

— I give up! You defeated me. As always, take note!

***

Remembering yesterday evening, George did not immediately notice that Pavel had been watching him for a long time.

- Did you want to ask something?

- So I did not want to, but asked several times. I want to go for water, will you come with me? I can do one. I run twice.

“Sorry, I was thinking. Of course I will. We need to hurry. The temperature drops. It will freeze in the evening. The path will turn into a skating rink.

On the way back from the stream, Mikhailov stopped as if listening.

Ours will be home soon. An hour and a half later.

- Wow, what precision. How did you manage to understand it?

- And there, the bird flew by, brought the news, - George laughed it off.

***

The fire was almost burned out. Tretyakov, who had previously silently watched the feeding of birds, made a conclusion that was rather unexpected for Butakov:

- And you, Vlasovich, are “not of this world” yourself. No wonder all living things reach out to you. Though bears, even these birds.

Butakov did not have time to object, as Yuri continued. He spoke seriously and sincerely:

“You must excuse me. After all, I would like to help you figure it out, but I can’t do everything. Something I don’t understand myself, but something is not my secret.

- Something too many secrets have recently formed around me. And where the "thread" stretches I can not understand.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be in a hurry?” Everything will explain itself in time.

"So why did you take me there?" If he knew that they did not want to communicate with us in any way. Why did we disturb them?

Tretyakov raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“So we weren’t the first to disturb them. And they are you.

Only then something seemed to click in Butakov's head. Much has become clear. It fell into place.

Are you saying that they were watching us in the village? In hospital? And at the estate?

Tretyakov nodded his head.

- They are.

What do they want from me and my family?

“That’s something I don’t know yet either.

***

Butakov overcame the last stretch of the way to the winter hut easily. Even from a distance I noticed smoke over the roof of the house near the rock.

“Look, they are waiting for us. Pavel is preparing something.

- Yeah, fish. I can smell it a hundred miles away, so I rarely fry it.

When the travelers approached the river, the dogs took off and rolled head over heels down the hill. This time they had to wait. The ice has already become dark, loose. Anticipating the warming, Tretyakov brought logs to the shore in the evening. It only remained to find a place where it would be safer to equip the crossing.

- It's time to take the boat ashore, if the heat holds out, then in a week or two the river will be cleared. he remarked, finding himself on the opposite bank.

- Do you have a boat?

“Well, what would it be like here without her?” In the summer you can swim. In spring, in autumn, no way.

The men slowly climbed the hill, talking on topics far from what they had experienced quite recently. Pavel and George hurried to meet them.

“That’s what you are,” Tretyakov asked, “everything that you saw and know should remain between us.” All this is not easy. It is not known how it can turn around.

- Understand. I agree. Just tell me, does Mikhailov know?

Tretyakov did not answer for a long time, but then he made an effort on himself and admitted:

- He's one of them.