Vladimir Orlov - Danilov the Violist

"Fire away," Karmadon said.

Danilov led Kudasov into the living room and introduced him to the other guests.

"Valйry Stepanovich Kudasov, lecturer on essential issues."

Zemsky guffawed, and the plumber Kolya was very pleased to see Kudasov.

Observing Kudasov's nostrils and moustache, Danilov felt sorry for his guest. Kudasov had smelled the charcoal-grilled lamb and now could suppose but one thing: It had already been eaten; he was too late. Danilov went into the kitchen, ordered twelve items, and also -- how weak and easygoing he was! -- a restaurant table on wheels.

"This is Andrei Ivanovich's treat," Danilov said.

Kudasov's moustache stood at attention. Later, sauce dripped from it. But the sauce managed to get into his mouth as well.

"Now, Valйry Stepanovich," said the plumber Kolya, munching on the fried fish, "how can you explain the blue bull?"

"About the blue bull," said Kudasov with a nod, hooking another piece of lamb with his fork.

"Yes, about the blue bull," Danilov seconded Kolya.

"Well," said Kudasov, "one thing is clear now. The homeland of the gigantic bull is more likely to be the forests of Kostroma than the quinine groves of Principe."

"How can those quinine groves compare?" Zemsky asked.

"The bull's not one of the aliens?" Kolya demanded point blank.

"What aliens?" Kudasov stared at Kolya.

"Everyone says," Kolya said, "that the aliens brought them here. Three thousand years ago. And when they left, they preserved them in a sleeping state. And these two woke up."

"Bulls are preserved," Zemsky said with a laugh, "at meatpacking factories!"

Andrei Ivanovich from Irkutsk did not like hearing such things about bulls. He frowned and said, "Why do you keep talking about bulls? People in Moscow have already begun forgetting about that blue bull, but you insist on bringing it up!"

Andrei Ivanovich was right. No one even remembered the green-and-white-striped bull at all in Moscow. Oh, the speed of Moscow life! It rushes on!... A congress of stomatologists had convened in Moscow, and now that was the talk of the town. Klavdia Petrovna had a guest ticket for the opening session of the congress, and now she was waiting to get into a plenary session. The rumor was that on the last working day the congress would pass a special resolution banning drills. From now on, teeth would be treated without pain by technical water and compressed air.

They drank to the dentistry convention. Danilov went back to the kitchen twice for new dishes and drinks, and more than once the company burst into song. Back in the baths, Kolya had taught Andrei Ivanovich the song "The daisies are gone, the daffodils are faded," and now Andrei Ivanovich sang it with gusto. On the other side of the wall, Klementiev, the woodwind player from the children's opera, heard the song. He lustily began to play it on his electric organ.

"What's he making all that noise for?" Karmadon was angry. "He makes noise at night, too."

Something exploded in the electric organ.

At the height of the banquet, Klavdia called.

"Danilov, I need you," she said. "I'll pick you up in a moment."

"I'm sorry," Danilov said. "I have guests..."

"Men or women?"

"Men," Danilov said.

"How many are you?"

"Five..."

"Fine," Klavdia said. "One too many. But I'll take four..."

"Where are you taking them?"

"To carry heavy things! I hope that real men would not turn down a damsel in distress..."

"What about Voinov?"

"Voinov! Voinov was created for scholarship. He has his Turks... All right. I'll be right over," Klavdia Petrovna said and hung up.

20

Next morning, Karmadon got up with the early-morning radio broadcasts and struggled for forty minutes with his weights. Then he asked Danilov to fill out the vacation papers -- the leave verification and the travel allowance.

"We'll do the list of souvenirs now, too," Karmadon said. "So we don't forget..."

"What time do you leave?"

"At twenty-four hundred ..."

"When the roosters crow?" Danilov tried to be more precise.

"Yes," Karmadon agreed. "When the roosters crow."

Karmadon spoke briskly, like a noble lord to his clerk. His eyes had grown cold, and yes, definitely metallic. On Kar-madon's suede jacket appeared a round medal, the size of a chocolate coin, with a blue bull on a black background and the words "Nothing in excess!" Over coffee, Danilov, who was still not used to today's Karmadon, asked if Karmadon's wounds made by knowledge had healed. Karmadon said severely that this conversation should be dropped. And he asked Danilov to forget the events of the past two weeks. And to forget anything that had been said in a moment of weakness.

"All right," Danilov said, growing serious.

Here Karmadon added, apparently to dispel any remaining doubts: The vacation was not wasted, for he had grown stronger, had crossed a watershed in his personal history, had matured, and was now ready for work even more significant than amusing himself with the Booteian civilization.

"Yes, I feel a definite infusion of strength," Karmadon said.

It looked as if this were the end of frankness. Once again Danilov felt like the stationmaster who was about to help the traveling gentleman with his fur coat. He was no longer sure if he had had a conversation with Karmadon about Time X.

It suddenly occurred to Danilov that perhaps Karmadon had come here not for a vacation at all but as an inspector in Danilov's case. The thought made him tremble, and he quickly grew bellicose.

Danilov sat down at his desk and began filling in the forms. Suddenly his guest became humble again and even rather subservient; he asked Danilov to fill in everything properly. And to be fair in his short report.

"All right," Danilov said drily.

Karmadon -- first on the islands of Sвo Tome and Principe and then in Pankratiev District -- had added five Earth days to his vacation. But now, with the words "Arrived" and "Left," these disappeared. The blue bull in Danilov's report was, if not heroic, at least an animal worthy of Karmadon's reputation. Danilov signed with a school pen from the forties, wooden and thin with a soft nib -- their accounting office did not allow blue ink. The parts needing seals Danilov touched with the S plate from his bracelet, which had been heated over the gas range. Now Karmadon's paperwork was in order. Karmadon wrapped them in a fireproof cloth and safety-pinned them to his trousers -- poorly filled-out or lost papers had cost more than one acquaintance of Danilov's and Karmadon's his career.

"If you decide to come over to us," Karmadon said, "it won't be ink you'll be signing with..."

"I know..." Danilov gave Karmadon a quick look.

"You promised to give me your decision today..."

"All right," Danilov said, "but first let's finish with your business and then take up mine."

"So he hasn't forgotten my case," thought Danilov. "That means he's no inspector. He really was on vacation." Danilov relaxed. And his feelings for Karmadon grew warmer. "He's all right," Danilov decided. Danilov felt that he wanted to postpone making a decision at least until evening. Who knew what the working conditions would be? Why get upset ahead of time?

"Now the souvenirs," Danilov said.

"Yes, the souvenirs ..."

They made up a list. Danilov would pack the articles and phenomena selected and send them along to catch up with Karmadon. Or on a parallel course. The list began with nine fur hats and one camel's-hair hat. The guest also asked for eight cases of Karmadon mineral water from the resort in Ossetia -- for his old man. Then came a diesel engine made by the Ludinovsky factory. Danilov wanted to ask why Karmadon needed that, but he looked very embarrassed.

"All right," Danilov said.