"What?" I exclaimed.

"Did you think it was all simple, like with vampires?" Gesar asked with a jolly smile. "Do you think Others only take, without giving anything in exchange? No, we all give back the Power that we produce. But while an ordinary person's process of absorption and emission is in dynamic equilibrium, and the balance is occasionally disrupted as a result of emotional agitation, with us it's different. We are unbalanced from the very beginning. We absorb more from the surrounding world than we give back."

"And we can juggle the remainder," I said. "Right?"

"We operate with the difference in potentials," said Gesar, wagging his ringer at me again. "It doesn't matter what your 'magical temperature' is-that was the term the witches used to use. You can actually generate a great deal of Power, and the rate at which it is emitted will increase in geometrical progression. There are Others like that… they give more back to the common pot than people do, but they also absorb very actively. They work on that difference in potentials."

After a moment's pause, Gesar added a self-critical comment: "But those are only rare cases, I admit. Far more often Others are less capable of producing magical Power than ordinary people, but equally or even more capable of absorbing it. Anton, there is no such thing as the average temperature for a hospital. We're not just crude vampires. We're donors, too."

"But why don't they teach us that?" I asked. "Why?"

"Because in the very crudest understanding of the process, we do, after all, consume Power that came from someone else!" Gesar barked. "Look at you, why did you come barging in here at such an early hour? To wax irate and lecture me. How can this be true-we consume the Power produced by people. And you have actually taken it directly, pumped it out, like a genuine vampire. When it was necessary, you didn't think twice. Off you went, in shining white armor, with sadness written large on your noble visage! And behind you little children were crying."

He was right, of course. Partly.

But I had already worked in the Watch for long enough to know that a partial truth is also a lie.

"Teacher…" I said in a low voice, and Gesar started.

I had refused to be his pupil any more on that day when 1 gathered Power from people.

"I'm listening, pupil," he said, looking into my eyes.

"Surely it's not a question of how much Power we consume, but how much we give back," I said. "Teacher, isn't the goal of the Night Watch to divide and protect?"

Gesar nodded.

"To divide and protect until such time as people's morals improve and new Others will only turn to the Light?"

Gesar nodded again.

"And all people will become Others?"

"Rubbish." Gesar shook his head. "Whoever told you such nonsense? Can you find that phrase anywhere in even one of the Watches' documents? In the Great Treaty?"

I closed my eyes and looked at the words that sprang into view; "We are Others…"

"No, it doesn't say that anywhere," I admitted. "But all our training, everything we do… it's all set up to create precisely that impression."

"That impression is false."

"Yes, but the self-deception is encouraged."

Gesar heaved a deep sigh. He looked into my eyes and said, "Anton, everyone needs their life to have a meaning. A higher meaning. Both people and Others. Even if that meaning is false."

"But it's a blind alley…" I whispered. "Teacher, it's a blind alley. If we defeat the Dark Ones…"

"Then we'll defeat Evil. Egotism, selfishness, indifference."

"But our own existence is egotism and selfishness too!"

"What do you suggest?" Gesar inquired politely.

I didn't answer.

"Do you have any objections to raise against the operational work of the Watches? Against monitoring the Dark Ones? Against helping people, attempts to improve the social system?"

I suddenly realized how I could strike back.

"Teacher, what exactly did you give Arina in 1931? When you met her near the racetrack?"

"A piece of Chinese silk," Gesar replied calmly. "She's a woman, after all, she wanted beautiful clothes… and those were hard times. A friend of mine sent me the silk from Manchuria, and I couldn't really think what to do with it… Do you blame me?"

I nodded.

"Anton, I was opposed to wide-scale experimentation on human beings from the very beginning," Gesar said, with obvious disgust. "It was a foolish idea that had been kicking around since the nineteenth century. No wonder the Dark Ones agreed. It didn't bring any positive changes at all. Just more blood, war, famine, repression…"

He stopped speaking and jerked the drawer of his desk open with a crash. He took out a cigar.

"But Russia would have been a prosperous country now…" I began.

"Blah, blah, blah…" Gesar muttered. "Not Russia, the Eurasian Union. A prosperous social-democratic state. Vying with the Asian Union, led by China, and the Conference of English-Speaking Countries, led by the United States. Five or six local nuclear conflicts every year… on the territory of Third World countries. A struggle for resources, an arms race far worse than what we have now…"

I was shattered and crushed. Totally blown away. But I still tried to object. "Arina said something… about a city on the moon…"

"Yes, that's right," Gesar said with a nod. "There would have been cities on the moon. Around the nuclear missile bases. Do you read science fiction?"

I shrugged and cast a sideways glance at the book in the trash basket.

"What the American writers were writing in the 1950s- that would all have happened," Gesar explained. "Yes, spaceships with nuclear drives… all military. You see, Anton, there were three ways communism in Russia could have gone. The first led to a fine, wonderful society. But that's contrary to human nature. The second led to degeneration and self-destruction. That's what happened. The third way was a conversion to Scandinavian-type social-democracy, followed by the subjugation of most of Europe and North Africa. Alas, one of the consequences of following this path was the division of the world into three opposed blocks and-sooner or later-global war. But before that, people would have found out that the Others exist and wiped them out or brought them under control. I'm sorry, Anton, but I decided that was too high a price to pay for cities on the moon and a hundred different types of salami by 1980."

"But now America…"

"You and your America," Gesar said with a frown. "Wait until 2008, and then we'll talk."

I said nothing. I didn't even ask what it was Gesar had seen in the future, in the year 2008 that was already so near…

"I can appreciate your emotional torment…" said Gesar, reaching for his lighter. "You won't think me too cynical if I light up now?"

"Have a glass of vodka, if you like, teacher," I snarled back.

"I don't drink vodka in the morning." Gesar started puffing to get his cigar lit. "I understand your torment… your… doubts very well. I also do not regard the present situation as correct. But what's going to happen if we all fall into a melancholy depression and leave our jobs? I'll tell you what! The Dark Ones will be only too delighted to take on the role of shepherds of the human flock! They won't be embarrassed. They won't be able to believe their luck… So make your mind up."

"About what?"

"You came here intending to hand in your resignation," said Gesar, raising his voice. "So make up your mind if you're in the Watch or you think our goals aren't Light enough for you."

"Where there's black, even gray looks white," I replied.

Gesar snorted. He asked in a calmer voice, "What's happening with Arina, did she get away?"

"Yes. She took Nadiushka hostage and demanded help from me and Svetlana."

Not a single muscle even twitched in Cesar's face.