el.angeleyes-第56部分

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charged；　your　honor！　Boom！
　And　what　of　Valeri's　father？　It　was；　Valeri　knew；　better　not　to　contemplate　his　ultimate　fate。　It　was　so　very　Russian；　and　so　very　terrible。
　Valeri　shook　himself　as　he　stepped　outside　onto　the　shaded　lawn。　His　gaze　followed　the　greensward　as　it　ran　down　to　the　beginning　of　the　pine　and　birch　forest；　on　whose　far　side；　invisible　now；　as　unimaginable　amid　this　noisome　clamor　as　a　fairytale　castle；　lay　beautiful　Arkhangelskoe。　Why　these　dark　thoughts？
　〃rade　Kolchev？〃
　Valeri　heard　Dr。　Kalinin's　voice；　and　he　knew。　He　tamed；　forced　a　smile　onto　his　face；　nodded。　〃Doctor。〃
　〃It's　good　of　you　to　e；〃　Dr。　Kalinin　said；　in　much　the　same　tone　of　voice　one　hears　in　a　funeral　home。　Valeri　was　convinced　that　Dr。　Kalinin　did　not　mean　to　sound　like　a　mortician；　he　just　couldn't　help　himself。　It　was　this　place　or；　more　accurately；　what　inhabited　this　place；　that　was　to　blame。　When　one　spent　one's　days　and　nights　with　the　living　dead；　one　could　not　help　but　be　affected　in　some　way。
　Dr。　Kalinin　was　a　young　man　with　thin；　light　hair　and　eyes　sunken　into　his　cheeks。　Valeri　could　not　imagine　what　he　had　done　to　be　consigned　to　this　purgatory　at　so　early　an　age；　and　he　had　no　desire　to　find　out。　Still；　he　pitied　the　doctor。
　〃You　must　get　more　sun；〃　Valeri　said；　indicating　the　cloudless　day。　〃Too　much　time　indoors　is　bad　for　one's　health。〃
　〃Ah；　the　long　winter；〃　Dr。　Kalinin　said。　〃Now　that　it's　spring；　things　will　be　different。〃　But　his　morose　expression　betrayed　him　as　it　told　the　truth：　here　it　will　never　be　different　than　it　is　right　now。
　Valeri　stuffed　his　hands　into　his　trouser　pockets；　led　the　way　out　over　the　lawn；　which　was　dotted　here　and　there　with　chairs　inhabited　by　mentally　and　emotionally　shrunken　creatures；　pathetic　husks；　overseen　by　attendants　looming　in　their　frail　shadows。　Valeri　needed　to　get　as　much　space　as　he　could　between　himself　and　the　godawful　corridors　of　the　place。　He　still　had　their　stench　in　his　nostrils；　and　he　felt　like　gagging。　That　would　be　something　to　talk　about；　he　thought；　throwing　up　all　over　the　good　doctor's　shoes；　so　sorry；　rade；　but　this　place　you　work　in　turns　my　stomach；　you　do　understand；　don't　you？
　〃She's　awake；〃　Dr。　Kalinin　said；　broaching　the　subject　they　both　knew　was　so　fragile。　〃I'm　sure　she'd　be　delighted　to　see　you。〃
　Why　does　he　keep　doing　this？　Valeri　asked　himself。　Why　draw　the　veil　of　illusion　over　any　of　this？　And　then　he　had　his　answer。　It　was　obvious；　really。　How　else　could　Dr。　Kalinin　live　with　himself　in　this　hideous　den　of　horrors。　Some　sense　of　normalcy　needed　to　be　imposed　on　the　abnormal；　the　heart　of　anarchy；　the　eye　of　chaos；　otherwise　the　madness　that　crept　through　these　corridors　would　one　day　curl　around　your　spinal　cord　and　infect　you。
　That　explanation　notwithstanding；　Valeri　would　be　goddamned　if　he'd　allow　this　man　to　impose　his　lunatic　set　of　rules　on　him。　He　said；　〃Doctor；　my　daughter　hasn't　been　delighted　by　anything　in　her　entire　life。　She　isn't　capable　of　delight…　although；　God　knows；　the　poor　thing　certainly　feels　despair。　I'm　aware　of　it　as　soon　as　I　e　near　her。〃　It's　as　palpable　as　the　scent　of　a　rose；　he　thought。　It　haunts　my　dreams。
　〃Perhaps　these　visits　would　bee　easier　to　handle　if　you　could　manage　to　e　more　often。〃
　Valeri　stood　stock…still；　his　hands　clenched　into　white　fists。　Do　you　understand　me　at　all；　Doctor？　he　thought。　Do　you　know　that　there　are　times…like　now…when　I'd　cheerfully　shoot　you　between　the　eyes；　and　never　feel　a　moment's　remorse？　Of　course　you　can't　know。　Otherwise　you　wouldn't　be　standing　here　with　that　prissy　superior　expression　on　your　face。　It's　true　I　pity　you；　but　I　also　hate　your　guts。　Your　daughter　is　normal　and　healthy；　and　mine　is　。。。
　〃I　e　as　often　as　I　am　able。〃
　〃Of　course　you　do；　rade。　I　was　only　making　a　clinical　suggestion。　One　that　I　think　would　be　helpful　for　your　daughter。〃
　You　idiot！　Don't　you　understand　that　my　daughter　is　beyond　the　help　of　your　antiquated　theories？　Valeri　wanted　to　shout。　But；　of　course；　he　could　do　no　such　thing。　He　was　here　as　a　private　citizen。　rade　Kolchev；　a　machinist　with　no　ties　to　anyone　in　government；　let　alone　to　the　Politburo。　In　his　position…with　so　many　enemies　circling　him　at　a　respectful　distance…Valeri　knew　that　his　daughter　could　only　be　a　liability；　a　fatal　weakness　he　could　not　afford；　her　existence　a　pry　bar　to　lever　him　out　of　power。　Otherwise；　he　thought；　why　in　the　name　of　all　that's　holy　would　I　have　allowed　her　to　be　put　in　a　backwater　pesthole　like　this？
　Valeri　said　in　a　perfectly　normal　voice；　〃My　daughter　does　not　know　who　I　am；　Doctor。　It　makes　no　difference　to　her　whether　or　not　I　e　to　see　her；　let　alone　how　many　times　a　week　I　e。　She　absorbs　nothing　from　her　surroundings。　Am　I　getting　through　to　you？''
　〃It's　true　that　she　has　no　manifest　reaction；　rade；　but　can　we　really　presume　to　know　what　goes　on　in　her　mind？〃
　Doctor；　you're　a　bug；　a　worm；　a　slimy　toad；　Valeri　thought。　The　way　you　look　down　on　me　makes　me　want　to　puke。　But；　you　know　what；　I'll　never　let　on　that's　how　I　feel。　Through　a　plex　set　of　circumstances　even　I　can't　undo；　you're　in　charge　of　my　daughter；　and　I　don't　want　to　antagonize　you　even　a　little；　because　even　with　a　mind　empty　of　thought；　my　daughter　is　precious　to　me。
　〃You're　right；　of　course；〃　Valeri　said。　〃One　mustn't　give　up　hope；　must　one？〃
　Dr。　Kalinin　smiled。　〃Now　that's　the　spirit。　Why　don't　you　wait　here；　rade；　as　is　your　custom；　and　I'll　fetch　her　for　you。〃
　〃That's　very　kind　of　you；〃　Valeri　said；　though　he　was　quite　certain　that　even　one　glance　at　his　daughter's　blank　face　today　would　set　him　to　screaming。　〃I　appreciate　all　your　help。〃
　〃I'm　glad　to　be　of　service；〃　Dr。　Kalinin　said；　striding　off　purposefully　back　to　his　house　of　horrors。
　Valeri　strolled　farther　down　the　lawn　until　he　came　to　a　large　birch　tree。　There　was　a　slat…backed　wooden　bench　facing　it；　and　he　sat　in　it。　Beside　him；　a　slender　young　man　sat　with　his　face　turned　up　to　the　sun。　His　hair　was　long　and　lank；　and　he　had　a　strawberry　birthmark　on　his　cheek。
　〃Have　you　heard　the　latest；　rade？〃　the　young　man　said。　〃The　nationalist　group；　White　Star；　has　forced　the　administration　to　abandon　its　underground　nuclear　testing　in　Semipalatinsk。〃
　〃Is　that　so？〃　Valeri　said。　〃I　thought　it　was　stopped　because　of　the　protests　of　a　Kazakhstanian　environmental　group。''
　〃Hah！〃　the　young　man　said。　〃Government　propaganda。　It　was　White　Star；　I　tell　you。〃
　White　Star。　Everywhere　he　went；　it　seemed；　Valeri　heard　the　name　White　Star。　He　did　not　look　at　the　young　man；　stared　instead　at　the　birch　tree。　He　liked　this　spot；　principally；　he　thought；　because　the　old　birch　reminded　him　of　the　one　outside　his　childhood　home　in　Kiev。　But　then　seeping　into　his　thoughts：　the　gunshot；　his　uncle's　blood　staining　the　streets；　the　Russian　soldier　kicking　the　still…warm　corpse；　saying；　A　　lesson　learned；　eh；　rade？　And　Valeri's　father　opening　his　mouth；　about　to　say　something；　then　turning　away；　tears　in　his　eyes。　How　many　times　had　his　father　told　him　that　story；　until　it　seemed　that　he　had　been　there　at　his　father's　side；　holding　his　hand。
　Father。
　How　could　they　have　done　that　to　you？
　Far　better　not　to　think　of　what　had　happened。　So　many　years　ago。　But；　as　Jung　would　say；　no　time　at　all。　Pain　beat　like　a　hammer　on　an　anvil　in　Valeri's　soul；　a　Russian　as　well　as　a　Ukrainian　soul；　it　never　forgot。
　Five　minutes　later　Dr。　Kalinin　appeared。　By　that　time　Valeri　was　alone；　the　young　man　with　the　strawberry　birthmark　having　wandered　away。　At　Dr。　Kalinin's　side　was　a　pale…skinned　young　girl。
　It　occurred　to　Valeri　that　it　was　impossible　to　tell　his　daughter's　age　from　either　her　face　or　her　unformed　body。　She　was　eighteen；　but　her　years　on　this　earth　had　been　nothing　more　than　a　dream；　a　whisper　of　the　wind；　a　cry　for　help；　lost　in　the　forest；　echoing　so　far　away　that　Valeri　did　not　even　know　where　to　search。
　Looking　at　her　thick　golden　hair；　her　blue　eyes；　her　pristine　beauty；　he　resolved　again　to　e　to　grips　with　the　fact　that　she　was　beyond　his　help。　But　more　than　anything　in　the　world；　he　wanted　to　municate　with　her；　and　he；　Valeri　Denysovich　Bondasenko；　supreme　pragmatist；　could　not　reconcile　himself　to　this　reali