Lame Fate | Ugly Swans by Arkady Strugatsky & Boris Strugatsky

Author:Arkady Strugatsky & Boris Strugatsky
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chicago Review Press
Published: 2020-05-24T17:18:11+00:00

At eight in the evening, Victor went down to the restaurant and was about to go to his usual table, where the usual crowd had already gathered, when Teddy called him over.

“Hiya, Teddy,” said Victor, leaning up against the bar. “How are things?” Then he remembered. “Oh, right! The bill. Was I pretty gone last night?”

“The bill’s no big deal,” growled Teddy. “Not too much damage—you broke a mirror and tore a washbasin off the wall. But do you remember the chief of police?”

“Wait, why?” asked Victor in surprise.

“I knew you wouldn’t remember. Your eyes were like a boiled pig’s. You were wasted . . . You, my friend,” Teddy said, pointing his finger at Victor’s chest, “locked the poor guy in a toilet stall, stuck a broom handle in the door, and wouldn’t let him out. At all. And none of us knew who was in there—he’d just arrived, we thought it was Quadriga. Well, OK, we thought, let him sit there for a while . . . And then you extracted him and started shouting ‘You poor thing, you’re all filthy!’ and sticking his head in the washbasin. Knocked it clear off the wall! We barely managed to drag you away, man.”

“Seriously?” said Victor, astounded. “No kidding. No wonder he’s been glowering at me all day.”

Teddy nodded sympathetically.

“It’s awkward, dammit,” said Victor. “I should apologize . . . But why did he let me do it? He’s still strong . . .”

“I worry they’re going to try to pin something on you,” said Teddy. “The fuzz was around here this morning taking statements . . . You’re guaranteed Article 66, aggravated assault. But it could be worse than that. Terrorism, for example. You got that? If I was you, I’d—” Teddy shook his head vigorously.

“You’d what?” asked Victor.

“They say the mayor came to see you today,” said Teddy.

“Yeah.”

“What about?”

“Eh, nothing much. He wants me to write an article condemning the clammies.”

“Oho!” said Teddy, perking up. “Well, then it really is nothing much. Write up that article for him and everything’s fine. If the mayor’s happy, the chief of police will keep his mouth shut. At that point you could stick ’im in the toilet every day if you wanted to. The mayor’s had it up to here with him . . .” Teddy showed Victor an enormous, bony fist. “So everything’s fine. Why don’t I pour you one on the house to celebrate? Vodka?”

“Sure, why not,” said Victor pensively.

Now he saw the mayor’s visit in an entirely new light. So that’s how they’re doing me, thought Victor. Yup . . . Either get out or do as you’re told—if not, we’ll reel you in. And by the way, it won’t be so easy to get out. If the charge is terrorism, they’ll find me. You stupid alcoholic, you . . . It just had to be the chief of police, didn’t it? Though, to be honest, the planning and execution weren’t bad, not at all . . .

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