Sergei Lukyanenko - The New Watch

In general, Schucharts are not very powerful – Fourth-or Fifth-Level, only rarely Third. (Those who are more powerful than that are usually more intelligent and mature.) That’s why, once they’ve chosen the path of militant good, ‘Schucharts’ set out for places where they can load up with Power from positive emotions – a good concert, the premiere of a long-awaited film, a sports event at which the fans of the winning team are in the majority, or even a children’s New Year party. And there they pump themselves full of energy – so much energy that it makes dealing with them a problem, even for Higher Magicians.

And then off they go, working good on all sides. Until they’re stopped.

By any possible means.

One day I almost became a ‘Schuchart’ myself. But I had either the wits or the luck to realise exactly what I ought to do… what I was gathering the energy of human happiness for.

I wasn’t sure about the young man Valentin.

As I approached, I could see quite clearly just how full he had pumped himself. Right up to the eyeballs, as they say – he couldn’t accumulate any more Power and was flinging everything he pumped out into a Sphere of Negation. I could tell at a glance that no spell of mine would pierce that defence. Maybe Gesar could have done something. Thanks to his technique. But there was no certainty that even he could have done anything straight away.

So, a Sphere of Negation. A spell that weak Others are really fond of – it allows them to oppose far more powerful magicians.

Right, now we know you, Valentin.

‘May I sit down?’ I asked as I approached the young man. Pastukhov had stopped a little distance away and started watching the stage in a very unnatural manner.

‘Have a seat, Anton,’ Valentin said. And he added, trying to speak as impressively as possible: ‘Only don’t try anything stupid, all right?’

‘There’s nothing stupid left for me to try here,’ I sighed as I sat down.

Valentin snorted.

‘It was always interesting to listen to you, Anton. You added a special kind of twist to the way you put things.’

‘That comes with age,’ I said, surveying the stand. ‘If you happen to live that long… So what are you doing, kiddo?’

‘You can see that,’ he replied with an adamant edge to his voice.

‘Sure, I can see. You’re pumping in Power. But what have you taken it into your head to do? Remoralise everyone here? Annihilate the Dark Ones? Scatter the clouds and improve the weather?’

‘There, now you’re talking plain nonsense,’ Valentin said scornfully. ‘Do you take me for a total fool?’

‘No, for a noble idealist with a passionate heart,’ I replied seriously.

‘I realise perfectly well that remoralising everyone haphazardly won’t do any good,’ said Valentin. ‘For your information, I’ve studied the history of those who’ve already tried to do that.’

‘And did that history teach you anything?’ I asked.

‘Of course.’

Valentin paused for a moment, peering into the stand. He was clearly waiting to seize the moment to suck in the next spurt of energy. I had to suppress a puerile desire to beat him to it and imbibe the spectators’ Power. It would be amusing… but no, better not nettle the young guy.

‘Valya, what is it that’s got you so wound up, anyway?’

‘The world’s full of injustice,’ Valentin replied immediately.

‘I won’t argue with that. But there was something specific, wasn’t there?’

Valentin thought for moment.

‘Yes, probably. The old woman.’

‘What old woman?’

‘My neighbour. She’s almost eighty already. Lives alone. Her children are either dead, or they don’t visit her. Yesterday I was walking along and I saw her in front of a shop – standing there, crying… counting the kopecks in her hand. How can that happen, Anton? How can we let people suffer like that?’

I sighed.

‘So it’s not the Dark Ones you’re protesting about, then? Not about the vampires who hunt people? Not about the Dark Magicians and Sorceresses?’

‘Them too,’ Valentin replied quickly. ‘But they come second. I just can’t bear to see the way people suffer!’

‘By the way, did you help the old woman?’ I asked casually.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did you ask her why she was crying? Was it because she didn’t have enough money for bread and kefir? Or had she lost her purse? Or was she simply senile, squirrelling away all her money for her funeral? That happens to old women sometimes, you know.’

‘I can’t help all the old women in Russia,’ Valentin said resentfully.

‘Why only in Russia?’ I asked in surprise. ‘Do you know how badly the old women and children in Africa suffer? You’re not a racist, are you?’

‘No!’ Valentin exclaimed indignantly. ‘But there are other people there, and Others too. I think that’s their duty.’

‘I can agree with that,’ I said. ‘But even so! You’re an Other. Sure, you’re a Light One, but the abilities of an Other allow you to live a pretty decent life, within the limits of the law and morality. You’ve probably got a thousand or two in your pocket. Did you help the old woman?’

‘Drop the cheap rhetoric, Gorodetsky!’ Valentin suddenly shouted out loud. ‘I ran away! I was ashamed! You can’t plug a hole in a dam with your finger!’

‘Yes, you can,’ I replied confidently. ‘If it’s a small hole, and a strong finger. You’re an Other. But, first and foremost, you’re a man. You didn’t help the one and only old woman you came across – so what do you want to use the Power for?’

‘I’m going to the Kremlin,’ Valentin said in an icy voice.

‘And what?’ I asked. ‘I hope you won’t start killing everyone on your way, like a certain Don Rumata?’

Valentin gave me a puzzled look.

‘That’s from a different book, not the one about Schuchart,’ I explained. ‘Don’t bother your head about it. So what is it that you want?’

‘I’ll remoralise them,’ said Valentin. ‘All of them. From the president to the… to the Kremlin office manager.’

‘Let’s say you do,’ I stated. ‘You’ll break through the defences set up by both the Watches, especially to deal with those who want to intervene like this, and you’ll alter the nature of all the people who have anything to do with power. The president, the ministers, the Duma deputies… So?’

Valentin actually started puffing and panting with indignation.

‘What do you mean, “so”? Corruption would come to an end, the laws would be observed. It would straighten out people’s lives!’

‘But you won’t remoralise all the people in the country,’ I said gently. ‘The Dark Ones will be granted the right to payback. And so?’

‘So if the authorities have high moral standards…’

‘Then in a few days they’ll be gobbled up by those who aren’t affected by your spell. Who won’t have any pangs of conscience, doubts, hesitations. An honest politician is an oxymoron. The new arrivals will immediately remind your highly moral elite of all their sins – and they’ll start beating their breasts and repenting without that in any case.’

‘Then they can step down!’

‘But the new ones won’t be any better.’

‘So am I supposed just to do nothing?’ Valentin asked, outraged. ‘Are people simply doomed to suffering? What do you suggest: “Don’t touch it until it starts to stink”?’

‘Better: “Don’t touch if it still works”,’ I told him. ‘Valentin, the whole problem is that the regime is a reflection of society. Crooked and grotesque, but still a reflection. And as long as most of the citizens of a country – if they happened to gain power – would steal and regard themselves as better than other people, no remoralisation of the ruling circles will change anything. Those politicians who acquire a conscience will leave. And new ones without consciences will take their places. It’s people who have to change, society—’