Chapter 37

Matvey Vlasovich's sleep that night was long and heavy. This is how people sleep, exhausted not so much physically as mentally. Without dreams. Almost no movement. Waking up from such a rest is like a desperate dive from a deep pool. Before opening his eyes, Butakov heard familiar subtle sounds. He got out of bed, got dressed, and left the outhouse. Quite large icicles have already hung from the roof of the canopy over the transition from the bathhouse to the house. They slowly melted under the bright sun, and the first ringing drops announced the area.

"Here comes the spring."

There was no joy in this discovery. There was still a heaviness in my heart. Snippets of the night's conversation flashed through my head. Thoughts were confused.

The house was empty. Tretyakov and Pavel left long before dawn. As planned. Mikhailov was not there either. The mess on the bed, the full bowl of Altai said that he left the house hastily, taking the dog with him. Matvey Vlasovich put on his jacket and went out onto the porch. Grozny stood on the platform in front of the house. He turned his head to the man only for a moment, wagged his tail as a sign of greeting, then continued his observation again. Butakov followed his gaze. He was sent to the crossing. The tracks of the shepherd dog also led there.

The riverbank seemed deserted. Returning to the house, Matvey Vlasovich took the binoculars and again went out onto the porch. Once again carefully examining the area, the path to the mountain, I finally noticed Altai. Apparently, having received the order to "wait", he lay down on the wooden logs, along which Mikhailov crossed to the other side. Even from afar, it was noticeable how tense the dog was. As always, sensing strangers, he did not bark for no reason, but waited. Only when crossing the territory, which he considered his own, did he demonstrate his presence. He had no opportunity to show the strength of his fangs. Rare guests were immediately recognized as friends. Altai perfectly felt the attitude of the owner to those who came. Now he clearly felt the presence of strangers nearby. But outside of "his house".

Something was happening right behind the top of the hill, in a small hollow. But to see what exactly was possible only by rising higher.

Putting a ladder against the wall of the house, Matvey Vlasovich stepped onto its roof and was dumbfounded. The already familiar picture of the taiga looked almost unreal from here. Everything remains the same. A narrow gorge on the right and a valley beyond the river on the left. Right in front of my eyes the ascent to a high mountain. Dense green coniferous trees. Snow between them... From a height, it all seemed so close now that it seemed one could scoop it up with the palm of a stream... From here, even the aroma of the awakening taiga was stronger. Matvey Vlasovich was familiar with the smell of the spring coniferous forest. They can only be enjoyed for a very short time. When the earthly juices are only gaining momentum from the roots to the branches. When the kidneys have not yet opened, but are already swollen. There is still snow, but under it the grass is already coming to life. Matvey Vlasovich inhaled the scent of spring, and for the umpteenth time I thought about Tretyakov's unusual choice of a place to live. But as soon as he raised the binoculars to his eyes, everything changed again.

In a small depression just behind the rocky top of the hill, Mikhailov stood with his back to him. He was not alone. The two figures opposite him seemed slightly blurred. Under bright sunlight, they emitted a slight shimmer. This created the feeling of their strange floating in the air. And the feet of George's interlocutors almost did not touch the ground. All this reminded Matvey Vlasovich of those who once met the Butakov family on the way to the village. The same motionless faces without facial expressions, a dark, without shine look. Even at this distance, they evoked a vague sense of danger. At some point, it seemed to Matvey Vlasovich that one of the men was looking directly into his eyes. Not being shy, Butakov nevertheless with difficulty overcame the desire to jump off the roof. Stopped by a sensible thought:

- Everything is fine. I'm standing under a rock ledge, in the shade. Binoculars do not glare from here. It's impossible to find me. Although ... the devil knows. Maybe they not only have advanced technology...

Mentally praising himself for having chosen this very place for observation, Butakov nevertheless stepped back a couple of steps back, under the stone protection.

After watching a little more, he realized that nothing new could be seen from here. He resolutely made his way to the stairs and went downstairs. From the outside, everything that followed might seem like the execution of a well-thought-out plan. In fact, Butakov was driven only by the desire to examine Mikhailov's interlocutors as closely as possible. What for? He didn't think about whether that might clear things up. It is possible that now the habit of meeting with those who were incomprehensible to him, face to face, has worked. He acted rather automatically. He put on Mikhailov's jacket hanging on a hanger near the door. It was lighter than his own, and together with a woolen hat and trousers made up a winter camouflage suit. He immediately abandoned the idea of ​​taking a hunting rifle, but slipped a rocket launcher into his belt.

Grozny was still on his guard, peering in the direction of the crossing. After stroking the dog in passing, the man ordered “watchmen”, although even without this it was clear that this is how he understands his task. Altai met Butakov by the river without the usual salutatory jumps. Silently watched his crossing.

The ice on the river even during the last night became even darker and looser. Poles laid in several rows no longer guaranteed safety either. Therefore, I had to move very slowly, checking every step.

Butakov climbed just as carefully along the path to the hill. The closer he came to the top, the more often he listened, looked around, sought shelter behind numerous boulders. Occasionally he scolded his joints, giving pain with sudden movements, but he was not going to stop. There are almost no large stones left at the very top. A scattering of small, but frail shrubs could hardly help to go unnoticed. But Matvey Vlasovich decided to go to the end. He got down on his knees, then lay down. Clinging to the ground, ignoring the sharp stones, he crawled a little more and froze. Now he was separated from Mikhailov and his interlocutors by only some fifty meters. Butakov had already figured out how to get closer to them, when suddenly Tretyakov's heavy hand fell on his back, pressing him even more tightly to the icy surface. Only the habit of the old geologist to maintain restraint in any situation, and the angry look of the owner of the zaimka kept Matvey Vlasovich from a violent reaction to his unexpected appearance. Almost silently, Yuri whispered:

- Back!

Matvey Vlasovich obeyed. There was something about Tretyakov that left no doubt about the need to obey his orders.

The way back was even more difficult for the eighty-year-old Siberian. Back and knees hurt. But he held on. Only after going down to the river, the men straightened up to their full height. Both were still silent. They didn't look at each other. The silence of the neighborhood was interrupted only by the lively singing of birds, and the more and more noticeable murmur of a full-flowing river under the ice.

On the shore lay two backpacks, abandoned by Tretyakov, clearly in a hurry. Yuri put a large backpack on his back, Butakov lifted the smaller one.

- Will you take it?

These were the first words Tretyakov addressed to Matvey Vlasovich. In response, he just waved his hand.

Having crossed to the other side, Tretyakov only stroked Altai and, repeating the order to “wait”, silently walked towards the house.

The contents of the backpacks occupied the entire huge table in the middle of the room. Basically, these were food supplies and cartridges for two hunting rifles. In several bundles, Matvey Vlasovich immediately recognized his wife's "branded" packaging. Only now I remembered that for almost two days they did not communicate. The phone was silent, and his thoughts were too chaotic and heavy. Fearing that Evdokia Alexandrovna would instantly recognize his condition and then questions could not be avoided, he put off the call.

- This is for you, - Yuriy Butakov held out an envelope and added, - she asked about her well-being. - She told me not to worry. Everything is in order at home.

Thanks, I'll read it later.

“Okay, then help me distribute all of this. “Then we need to talk.

Before Matvey Vlasovich had time to answer, Tretyakov's phone rang. He looked at the flashing number, went to the door. Before it closed behind him, Matvey Vlasovich heard only a few words:

- I'm listening. Everything is fine. Managed. I will add later.

Half an hour later the table was vacated. Finally, the firewood in the stove blazed, and the soup left over from yesterday's dinner was warmed up on the stove. In the room that had cooled overnight, it gradually became warmer. Matvey Vlasovich waited with difficulty for Tretyakov to eat. He asked only a couple of questions about Pavel's condition, about where the foresters met them. Tretyakov answered in monosyllables. It was evident that he was now worried about completely different problems. Matvey Vlasovich was preparing for new surprises. He realized that they would be there, on top of the hill, meeting Tretyakov's furious gaze. He did not even try to understand how Yuri could find out about his whereabouts, what caused such a reaction to the desire to take a closer look at Mikhailov's interlocutors. During these days, he had to learn too many unexpected things that he still did not have time to fully believe. Probably because now he was ready for anything.

- You promised me not to do anything yourself until you get all the explanations from me or from Mikhailov.

Matvey Vlasovich was dumbfounded for a moment by these words. The next moment he was ready to fight back. Phrases swirled on his tongue to the effect that he had long since passed the age when he was ready to listen to the moralizing of his elders. But Tretyakov continued in the same tone that brooked no objections:

“You nearly ruined the whole operation for us.

- What? What other operation? To whom is it for you? What the hell is even going on here? Either the world is parallel, or some kind of operation. Can you finally explain everything to me?

Tretyakov calmly waited until Butakov calmed down and continued:

- The only reason I continue to communicate with you is that I consider this our mistake. We didn't expect such a, let's say, agility from you. Who would have thought that a person at eighty years of age would not only decide to hike through the pass, but would not calm down here either.

Sincere admiration was heard in Tretyakov's voice:

"Don't say anything, you're a strong man. Although you have amassed a lot of sores in geology, you don’t give up.

Butakov interrupted him impatiently:

- Don't give me compliments. I'm not your marriageable girl. I'll manage. It’s better to answer, finally, who is “you” and what kind of “operation” did you start here?

Tretyakov was still imperturbable:

Yes, now I can answer this question. Got approval from management.

Butakov's eyebrows went up again, his bewilderment grew even more, but he refrained from further questions.

Tretyakov got up from the table, walked over to a shelf on the wall, opened one of the drawers, and flipped the key. Returning to the table, he handed Butakov a certificate. He automatically picked it up and read it.

- An employee of the FSB of Russia? Are you an FSB officer? Here?

- Yes sir. It's been almost twenty years now. As you understand, they would not have sent me here in vain.

- Have you sent? Did the FSB send you here? But how is it? Is this your, what do you call it, "legend"?

Butakov pointed to a photograph of Yuri's daughters that hung over the desk.

Tretyakov smiled bitterly:

“This, unfortunately, is the reality. And their death actually became the reason for my decision to leave for the taiga. True, initially I was not going to climb into such a wilderness. I wanted to buy or build a winter hut near the village. But then everything changed. I was approached by the security forces. They offered to cooperate.

“Damn it, this is a turn,” Butakov, as they say, could hardly believe his ears.

Yuri nodded in agreement.

— Yes, for me the whole story was also, to put it mildly, a surprise. For a long time I could not understand why the secret service needed an employee in the remote taiga. Yes, and with the condition of extremely limited ties with anyone. After all, I didn’t immediately know what the essence of the task was. I was gradually prepared for this. I was afraid that I would not believe, most likely.

"I can imagine," muttered Butakov.

Tretyakov shook his head.

- You probably won't understand me. At least until the end. I was much less resistant to such surprises than you. Or maybe it was the fact that my personal tragedy broke me down.

Yuri looked at the photo of his daughters, thought. Butakov also tried to collect his thoughts. Separate images from the recent past flashed through my head. Snowmobile accident. Meeting with Mikhailov. Acquaintance with Yuri. His stories ... Something among these especially hooked him:

- But how did you actually meet Mikhailov? Was there an animal? The rescue? Did he really happen to be where you were injured?

I don't think it's entirely by accident. Most likely, “our guests from a parallel world” have been tracking my movements since my very appearance here. So, it seems not by chance, on the other hand, he did not watch me every day ... Understand it as you like.

But Butakov no longer listened to Yuri. Now he switched to something even more important:

"And he, what is he?" Knows about your assignment?

Tretyakov looked Butakov straight in the eyes, and the iron notes rang again in his tone:

He knows what he is allowed to know. And I hope you understand that this should remain so.

Butakov did not avert his eyes, and answered with a slight chuckle:

— Yes, what is there incomprehensible? Everything is clear as daylight. FSB is better not to fail.

“Yes, that’s right, and therefore, too,” Tretyakov calmly confirmed.

- And how long has the FSB been watching "them"?

“They were watched over by our special services long before the appearance of the FSB. More precisely, this interest arose immediately after the Tunguska disaster. The data of the first expeditions to the site of the explosion are still classified. I am also not familiar with everything that was found there. But it is clear that there was something that prompted different thoughts. Area supervision was required. For many years, he did not give a result, but then information about the “taiga people” began to come from the hunters.

— And when was that?

— The first stories appeared long before the Great Patriotic War. During the war, all the work of special officers had to be curtailed. It wasn't before. But then they resumed again.

Do you know those who came before you?

— No, of course not. Only those who need to know know them.

— Oh, yes, the secret services keep their secrets.

- Naturally. And let it all stay that way.

Butakov winced.

Yes, I understand everything. Although, what am I... No one will fully understand everything in this story.

The interlocutors fell silent. They both thought about the same thing and at the same time - each about his own. Butakov looked around as if seeing this room for the first time:

“So, you didn’t choose this place for your home at all by chance, not only because it’s too beautiful around?”

- You're right. There are many good places in the taiga, but only from here you can see the gorge where "our guests" settled.

Butakov asked incredulously:

— Can you see the gorge where we were? Where? I could hardly see from the roof the meeting place of Mikhailov with his friends. And this is ten times closer.

Tretyakov patiently explained:

- You climbed on the roof. But the rock above it has a height much greater than the house itself.

“Hmm… How do you get on top of it?” After all, there is a sheer wall on all sides.

- Matvey Vlasovich, you want to know everything at once. Leave some for later. It will be easier to digest everything.

“Perhaps you are right about that. Moreover, Mikhailov will return soon. I hope to talk to him too.

Tretyakov looked out the window:

“We still have time. Mikhailov is still there, over the hill.

— How do you know? Another secret?

- What's the secret? My four-legged friends are still guarding us. So Mikhailov's "conversation" with his "colleagues" continues. As soon as they leave, Altai and Grozny will relax. For some reason, they react very nervously to them. Although they never came close to home. But dogs can smell them from afar. So if you have any other questions, please ask. If I can answer.

“You said you got permission to bring me up to date, so to speak. Why? Could continue to "lead me by the nose." I was already about to leave. Talk a little more with Mikhailov. Yes, say goodbye.

— How so? After all, you wanted to find out the reasons for the interest of our “one-earthers” in your grandson.

Butakov reluctantly explained:

- I, frankly, began to doubt that I would get a clear answer. That's why I thought about taking him somewhere far away from here. Forever and ever. But now.

Tretyakov finished his thought:

“Now that you have found out that the special service is involved here, you understand that it will be even more difficult.

- Yes sir.

- That's where you're wrong. The FSB is not at all interested in expanding the circle of those who are privy to this whole story. He himself would be glad to forget about you, provided that you keep everything a secret, but this is no longer possible. Mikhailov assured me that "they" would not let go of anyone in whom "their blood flows." Besides, no one knows how it will affect your grandson in the future. I heard that he has changed a lot lately?

- Yes true. It seems to be normal at his age. But not everything can be explained by simple growing up. If not for this story with his salvation, then we might not have worried, but now everything looks more complicated.

- You're right. We discussed this with Mikhailov.

Butakov interrupted Yuri:

Is he following Matthew?

- Don't get excited. Of course, their interest in the guy is huge. They themselves do not really know what all this will result in. In addition, there are those in their crew who are very dissatisfied with Mikhailov. Accuses him, so to speak, of betrayal.

- Oh, and what exactly?

— Not everyone likes his desire to establish ties with us. They firmly believe that they have only one task - to find a way back to their world. They are here temporarily. They do not need any communication, moreover, it is dangerous.

- And what does Mikhailov think?

“He's sure they're stuck here for a long time, if not forever. It's time to build a relationship with us. Collaborate and so on. He even believes that we can be useful in this sense. We will help you find a solution to the problem, replenish energy reserves. After all, we can get it in any quantities.

Butakov shuddered at these words:

“This is what scares me.

Again they both fell silent. Yuri already knew what question Butakov would ask him and was not mistaken:

— And what about the FSB? For us, this "cooperation, what will it bring?

Tretyakov did not have time to answer. Outside the window, the cheerful barking of Altai was heard. Terrible barked at him in response, loudly and briefly. Noisily shaking his furry coat, he finally returned to his usual place under the awning.