glad about that,' I said honestly.

'Not nearly as glad as I am,' Semyon laughed. 'I'll tell you something, the Other who did this has got some nerve. He hasn't just got the Watches involved in this mess, he's dragged the Inquisition into it as well. To do that, you either have to be way out of control, or calculate every last little detail. If it's the first, he's done for, but if it's the second, he'll squirm his way out of it. I'd lay two to one he'll squirm his way out.'

'Semyon, is it true that an ordinary human being can be turned into an Other after all?' I asked. Honesty is the best policy.

'I don't know,' Semyon replied and shook his head. 'I used to believe it was impossible. But if recent events are anything to go by, there's some kind of loophole. Very narrow, pretty nasty, but still a loophole.'

'Why nasty?' I asked, seizing on his words.

'Because otherwise we would have made use of it. What a coup, for instance, to make the President one of your own! And not just the President, but everyone who has any kind of influence. There'd be an amendment to the Treaty, determining the procedure for initiation, and there'd be the same stand-off, only at a new level.'

'But I thought it had been absolutely forbidden,' I admitted. 'The Higher Others got together and agreed not to disrupt the balance . . . threatened each other with the ultimate weapon . . .'

'With what?' Semyon asked, astonished.

'You know, the ultimate weapon. Remember, you told me about the incredibly powerful thermonuclear bombs? We have one, the Americans have one . . . There must be something of the sort in magic too . . .'

Semyon started laughing:

'What nonsense, Anton! There aren't any bombs like that, it's all fantasy, fairy tales! Learn some physics! There isn't enough heavy water in the oceans for a self-sustaining thermonuclear reaction.'

'Then why did you tell me that?'

'We were spinning all sorts of yarns at the time. I never thought you'd believe it . . .'

'Ah, dammit,' I muttered and took a mouthful of beer. 'And you know, after that I couldn't sleep at night . . .'

'There is no ultimate weapon, you can sleep easy,' Semyon laughed. 'No real one and no magical one. And if we accept that it is possible to initiate ordinary people after all, then the procedure is extremely difficult and disgusting, with unpleasant side effects. In general, no one wants to get their hands dirty. Neither us nor the Dark Ones.'

'And you don't know about any such procedure?' I asked, just to make sure.

'I don't.' Semyon thought for a moment. 'No, I definitely don't. Reveal myself to people, give them orders or, say, recruit them as volunteers – I've done it all. But as for turning someone into an Other when you want to, I've never heard of that.'

Another dead end.

I nodded, gazing gloomily into my beer mug.

'No need to knock yourself out,' Semyon advised me. 'There are only two possibilities. This Other is either a fool or he's very cunning. In the first case the Dark Ones or the Inquisitors will find him. In the second case they won't, but they will find the human being and teach him not to wish for such strange things. Similar cases have been known.'

'What am I going to do?' I asked. 'I must admit the Assol complex is interesting, it's fun to live there. Especially on expenses.'

'Then enjoy it,' Semyon said calmly. 'Or is your pride offended? Do you want to out-gallop everyone else and find the traitor first?'

'I don't like leaving things half-done,' I admitted.

Semyon laughed:

'All I've been doing for the last hundred years is leaving things half-done . . . There was the little business of the hoodoo laid on the rich peasant Besputnov's cattle, in the Kostroma province. What a case that was, Anton! A mystery. A tight web of intrigue. It was magical all right, but it was all done so cunningly . . . the hoodoo was applied via a field of hemp.'

'Do cattle actually eat hemp?' I asked, intrigued despite myself.

'Ah, who'd let them? The peasant Besputnov used to make rope out of that hemp. And he used the rope to lead his cows around. And the hex went through it that way. A cunning hoodoo, slow and thorough. And not a single registered Other for a hundred miles around. I moved into the little village and started searching for