Michael Swanwick - Dancing with Bears

“You’re cold! And your coat is sodden. Have you been rolling about in puddles?” Surplus removed Arkady’s overcoat and replaced it with a ceremonial greatcoat that was thickly woven, intricately embroidered, and worth a fortune in any bazaar in the world. “There. That will keep you warm,” he said. Then, “Dear Lord! That awful grimace! Every time I look at you it gives me a fright. Here.” Using his cane, he hooked down a medieval helmet with a serene silver face-mask from the wall. He placed it over Arkady’s head, cinching the straps with particular care to the lad’s comfort. “Now try to keep up. We haven’t much time.”

Down the lightless gray halls they scurried, pausing every now and again so Surplus could pick a lock (the tools taken not from the satchel but from the pocket case, which he had planned to use at the Pushkin) and so select some choice item. It would have been easier to smash the glass of the vitrines. But that would have been vandalism, and Surplus was no vandal.

Quickly, he loaded down Arkady with the best of what he saw: the Imperial Crown, which was covered with nearly five thousand diamonds and topped by a red spinel, the second-largest such gemstone ever found; Catherine the Great’s scepter, which contained the famously large Orlov Diamond; a jewel-encrusted armored breastplate that he didn’t recall having read about but which looked respectably gaudy; and much more as well. Arkady’s greatcoat pockets he stuffed to overflowing with cunningly made jeweled eggs.

“Can you see?”

“The Duke of Muscovy.”

“Yes, yes, most admirable. I commend you for your sense of duty. Try to focus on the moment, however. We have serious matters which must be dealt with first.” Surplus heaped Arkady’s arms to overflowing with damascened swords, platinum goblets, jewel-hilted daggers and the like. For himself, Surplus was careful to keep his arms unencumbered and his wits sharp. But whenever he came upon loose gems, he slipped them into his pocket, until he had a good solid handful.

Arkady’s load would make Darger and him rich beyond belief. The loose stones were only insurance.

A museum was a spooky place at night, lit only by bioluminescent columns. Those small random noises indigenous to any old buildings were all too easily assigned patterns by a nervous mind. So when Surplus, who was far from a coward, first heard what might have been distant footsteps, he ignored them.

Then came the sound of breaking glass.

Surplus froze. Someone else had entered the Armory with the same intentions as he, and had just smashed open a display case.

Well, there was more than enough wealth here for two; it would take weeks and wagons to remove it all. But the very act of looting, as he knew from experience, excited greed. And greed made men violent and unpredictable. “We must leave now, Arkady,” Surplus murmured. “I want you to follow me as quietly as you can. Do you think you can do that?”

There was no response. “Arkady?” He looked around for the boy. But Arkady had disappeared.

The Pearls’ grand procession was a grave disappointment. The streets were at first empty, and then they were filled with unhappy-looking people, all hurrying away from the heart of the city. None looked festive. Some carried torches, true, but they didn’t look like the sort who could be trusted with them. Nobody cheered or threw flowers. After a few tentative waves were ignored, the Pearls withdrew from their windows and sulked.

When at last they pulled up before the Great Kremlin Palace, there were no musicians playing and no ceremonial troops to greet them. The plaza was eerily dark and still.

“Where is everyone?” Nymphodora said, when the Neanderthals had helped them down from their coaches. Neat lines of streetlamps burned quietly over desolately empty spaces.

“I dunno,” Enkidu said. “But if it was up to me, we’d turn around right here and now and go home.” He held up his hands to fend off the Pearls’ glares. “I know, I know! I was just saying.”

Olympias sniffed the air. “I smell smoke. Is there a building on fire? Is that why there’s nobody here?” “That is none of our concern,” Russalka said. “Let us go to our royal husband.”

With Neanderthals to their front, back, and either side, the Pearls entered the palace and swept up the great staircase to the Georgievsky Hall. There were no guards at the door and the hall was empty. Lanterns burned unattended. The silence was so absolute it seemed to reverberate.

“Maybe we shoulda sent word we was coming,” Enkidu said uneasily. “Hush,” Russalka snapped. “We go through those mirrored doors over there.” They pushed into the octagonal Vladimirsky Hall and came to a halt. For this room was not empty. Shaggy members of the Royal Guard slouched in delicately carved chairs that were surely worth more than they were, smoked cigars and spat on the floor, leaned against pristine white walls which would doubtless require cleaning as a result. Two were on their knees, shooting dice.

“Cease this scandalous behavior!” Russalka commanded. “A palace is no place for such slovenliness. Our royal husband will be outraged when we tell him about it.”

The guards stared. Those who were seated or kneeling rose to their feet.

“Excuse me for pointing this out, Gospozha,” said their leader. “But you’re not supposed to be here at all. Much less ordering anybody around.”

A Neanderthal stepped forward. “My name’s Enkidu. These are my boys.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Somehow, I seem not to have caught your name.”

The bear-man’s lips curled back in a snarl. “Captain Pipaluk, of the Royal Guard.”

“Well, Captain Pipaluk, I think you oughta treat these ladies with respect. They come all the way from Byzantium to marry your boss-man. They can cause you a lot of trouble.”

All the bear-guards laughed coarsely. “Marry the duke?” their leader said. “Impossible!”

“He’s in the Terem, right? Through that door there?

Deadly serious again, Captain Pipaluk said, “He was the last time we saw him. But we’re not going through that door until we’re sent for-and neither are you.”

Enkidu smiled brutishly. “In that case, we’re just gonna have to go through you guys.” As he spoke, the Neanderthals and the bear-guards all casually arrayed themselves for a fight.

“Well, well, well,” Captain Pipaluk said. “This is a clash for the records. The gene vats of Byzantium against those of Russia. The old culture versus the new. Decadence against youth. Come to think of it, you’re even dressed for the part, with those pansy outfits and those silly little hats. I believe what we have here is a genuine passing-of-the-torch moment.”

“You know what?” Enkidu said. “You speak real good. I don’t got no doubt you’re smarter than we are. Maybe you got better reflexes, too. Who knows, you might even be stronger. Stranger things have happened. But we still got one big advantage over you.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

Enkidu cracked his knuckles. “We got you outnumbered three to one. In my experience, that means we win.”

With a roar, the two groups surged into each other, fists flying.

“Men!” Aetheria said. “Honestly.”

“Oh, I know,” Euphrosyne said. “They look nice enough-but they’re always fighting and starting wars and the like. I think they’re just trying to impress one another.”

“Well, they’re certainly not impressing me,” Eulogia said.

“Meanwhile,” Russalka pointed out, “the way to the Terem Palace is open. Let’s just go.”

“Oh!” gasped Nymphodora. “Can we?”

“Fortune favors the bold,” Russalka said, and strode straight for the door. The other Pearls hurried in her wake.