詩人セルゲイ Sergei the poet

　セルゲイは若い頃、自分のことを詩人だと思っていた。ある時、ふと心の震えとともに霊感ともよぶべき詩の予感が降りて来る。その感覚はやがて特定の言葉へ着地し、世界はセルゲイの言葉によって縁取られる。

　とはいえセルゲイの詩は決して日の目を見たわけではない。大学校内の文芸雑誌には掲載されることはあっても、実際に詩集を出すまでには至らなかった。母と子だけの生活では、地元の出版社に印刷してもらうだけの金が作れなかったのだった。国から奨学金をもらっている身分では、大学に行けることだけでも奇跡のようなもので、そのうえ装丁された詩集を出版し、書店に置いてもらうことを望むのは、場違いな希望だった。

　大学では演劇部に所属した。そこで脚本と演出を手がけながらも、一方でセルゲイは詩も捨てられずに書き続けた。ときおり脚本の中に自作の詩を加えることもあったが、その評判は可も不可もないといったところだ。

　その演劇部にエレナが入部したとき、彼女の存在は部のみんなをちょっと落ち着かせなくした。確かに顔立ちは整っていたし、見ようによっては横顔がその当時人気だった女優を思わせるところがあった。だが、それよりも皆が気になるのは、その彼女がおよそ恋愛というものに対して全く無関心であり、冗談や軽口を解さないそのギャップだった。

　まだ十代だというのに、エレナは常にベージュのロングスカートを履いていた。それは当時から見ていささか時代遅れの服装に見えた。そして彼女は同年代の音楽も解することがなかった。皆が知っているはやりの歌も一つも知らず、好んで聴くものといえば驚いたことにバッハだった。

　あの子はもっとちゃんとした服装をして、化粧もうまくやれば夢中になる奴が出てくるよ、というのが部内での評判だったが、彼女が意識してそんな技巧を見せずとも、エレナに恋をしたのがセルゲイだった。

　二年が経ったころにはセルゲイとエレナは恋人同士になっていた。

　やがて兵役の時期が近づき、セルゲイにも招集通知が届くと、彼等もありふれた恋人たちのようにこの別れを悲しんだ。街の暗がりでくちづけを交わし、愛していると言い合った。できることならセルゲイも先輩たちのように、この別れの前に恋人を部屋に連れ込んで、彼女の身体を所有したかったのだが、生真面目なエレナはその一線だけはどうしても死守したのが残念な点だった。結局、セルゲイは紳士的にそこは諦めざるを得なかった。

　その代わり毎日手紙を書く、とエレナは約束した。そして毎晩眠る前にセルゲイのことを想い、いつか一緒に暮らせることをずっと待っている、とも彼女は約束した。その言葉でもってセルゲイは自分を納得させねばならなかった。

　冬の気配が空気の中に混ざり始める九月、セルゲイたち若者はみな支給品の軍服に身を包み、一様に頭を刈られたのち、各地方に配属された。

　セルゲイに与えられた仕事は二年間の国境警備だった。

　国境には何もない大地が広がっていた。かつて北方の砂漠から異民族が襲来するというできごとがあったというが、それもすでに千年以上前の話で、いまは渓谷の一画に白く塗られた鉄製の柵の上に有刺鉄線が風に吹かれているだけだった。

　それが国境だった。たまに柵の向こう側から、風に乗って射的訓練の音が聞こえてきた。そういうときセルゲイたち警備兵は首をもたげて、静かな獣たちのように一斉にそちらを向いた。

　その配属地区には遺跡があった。草地だらけの丘の上で警備をしていると、教会跡や住居跡が見られたが、それらはまだ発掘されないまま半ば地中に埋まっているものもたくさんあった。雪が降って丘一面が白色に包まれると、一箇所だけ凝灰岩の赤茶色がポツンと浮き上がって見えるが、それはおよそ紀元７世紀に建築された教会のドームだった。

　蛇が出るから気をつけるように、と注意されていたが、春になると訓練と見回りの間の自由時間に何度かセルゲイはその遺跡に足を運び、崩れたドームの壁面に描かれた天使の壁画を眺めることがあった。その天使の面影はなんとなくエレナに見えたので、彼はそのことを手紙に書いた。詩的で感傷的な手紙だったが、彼女にもこの気持ちは届くはずだと思った。エレナの返事はセルゲイほど頻繁でもなく、それが彼には物足りなくもあったのだが、それでも構わずにセルゲイの方は暇があると手紙を送り続けた。

　気の遠くなるような二年間が過ぎ、セルゲイが兵役から帰ってくると、エレナから改めて話があると言われた。結婚の相談に違いないと思ったセルゲイは盛装してレストランに向かった。だが、そこで伝えられたのは、結婚は結婚でも、エレナが別の男性と結婚するという話だった。

「そんな親同士の付き合いがあったなんて話は聞いていない」とセルゲイは言った。

「そんなのあなたにわざわざ報告する義務なんてないでしょう？」と困惑したようにエレナは言った。そんな物言いも、この二年間で変わったことだった。

「しかもそいつ外国の奴なんだろ、狂ってるよ！君は自分がしていることを分かってるのか？」

「やめてよ」とエレナは言う。「あなたそんなこと言う人じゃなかったのに」

「変わったのはそっちだ」とセルゲイは言った。

　その話が出たのは料理の途中だったが、セルゲイは席を立って自分と彼女のぶんの料金を払って、レストランを飛び出した。

　ある日世界は変わる。

　そのときセルゲイは叔父の紹介で造船会社に就職する話がついていたが、家に帰るなり叔父に連絡してその話を断った。翌日にはもう軍隊に入る手続きをしていた。

「この選択はとても正しい」と入隊したときの上官は言った。「母なる国のもとに帰るのが結局一番安心なんだ。それ以外に何の正しい生き方がある？」

　セルゲイは当初、国境警備を希望した。とにかく街から離れたかったのだ。

　が、セルゲイが配属された部署は首都の情報部隊だった。

　ちょうど軍部は新しい動きに対応する必要に迫られていた。今すぐではなくとも、西の隣国との緊張状態がこのまま続けば、いずれ何かが起こるというのが軍上部の見立てだった。そのとき必要なのは、よく訓練された実戦的な若い情報部員だった。たまたま入隊した時、セルゲイの担当した上官がその情報部隊に関係していた。

　セルゲイとしては数年間ほどの軍隊生活のつもりだったが、この上官がセルゲイの才能を見いだした。セルゲイの顔立ちはごく普通だったが、この場合それがよかった。目立つこともなく、記憶にも残りにくい。それに加えて軍隊内部の人間にしては珍しくセルゲイは言葉の使い方が上手だった。

　あるとき上官は一度セルゲイに特別な仕事を与えてみた。それは単調かつ理不尽な仕事であり、何も知らない連中から見ればセルゲイが何か大きなミスをして、その罰を与えられているようにも見えた。

　それは非公式の試験だった。セルゲイはなにひとつ文句も言わずに、三ヶ月間その仕事をやり遂げた。実際にはセルゲイはエレナのことを思い出し、自分の人生に絶望していただけだったが、上官の目にはセルゲイの仕事ぶりは強い自制心と、軍に対する忠誠に見えた。

「来週から君の配属は変わる」とある時上官は自分の執務室にセルゲイを呼んだ。

　気がつけば諜報部員としてセルゲイは実に十四年も過ごしていた。来年で諜報部員として十五年目になると周囲から指摘されてそれでようやく気付いたほどだった。

　彼は傍目にも順調に軍の中で出世していた。すでに部下も多くおり、入隊時は二十代だったセルゲイは四十過ぎになってずいぶんな貫禄もついた。

　その長い期間のあいだで幾度も西の隣国との小競り合いがあり、死者が出るたびに戦争はじりじりと現実味を増していった。国内では戦争へ向かう昂揚的な声が揚がるのとは反対に、物資は欠乏しはじめていた。昨日買った卵が今日は二倍の値段になる。棚からものが減りはじめ、代用品と軍人が幅を利かせるようになる。

　いまや街中で大型車に載っているのは金持ちか軍人だけだ。

　一台の軍用車が通りの角に停車する。運転手はまだ若い男で顎に赤く膨らんだニキビがある、彼は運転席からキビキビと降り、車のドアを開けた。やがて大儀そうにセルゲイが降りる。それに続いて彼の上官が降り、二人は地下への階段を降りていく。くすんだ青色の扉が開いて、主人が現れる。一瞬だけ店の中から光が漏れて地面に男たちの影が反映されるが、ドアはすぐに閉まる。

　彼らがえんじ色のソファに座るなり、ステージではダンスが始まる。一連の挨拶や注文が済むと、上官はソファの上に深く腰掛け、セルゲイと二人だけになるのを待つ。

　やがて上官は言う。

「じきに大きな戦争になる。もちろん、国境は死守せねばならん」

「でしょうね」とセルゲイは言った。

「おや、君は心配ではないのか？」

「心配ですよ」とセルゲイは言う。

「そう……われわれの国土が、文化が、あの連中に乗っ取られる。あの野蛮な奴らに。君にも家族はいるはずだ。そう、君の奥さん……Ｍ家に繫がる方だったろうーー」

「ええ、ええ」とセルゲイは苦笑しながら答えた。セルゲイの妻を言うとき、どの人間も彼女の家柄を口にした。それは確かに一応は上級階級にひっかかる家柄ではあったが、実のところ彼女にはそれ以外褒める箇所が見当たらない、というのが本当のところだった。

「何が必要ですか？」とセルゲイは言った。

　このレストランもいつの間にか変わった。かつては一流の人間が集まる社交場のような役割を果たしていたが、店の女たちはくたびれていたし、化粧の仕方もおざなりだった。それでも仕事だからステージで踊っていた。曲が終わると、隣の上官はタバコを咥えながら拍手をした。女たちは嬉しそうに微笑んだ。全員が一つの演技をしているようだった。

「私はなにをすればいいんです？」返事がなかったのでセルゲイは再び訊ねた。

「いまは民間人の中にもスパイがいる。非公式協力員という体で、あちら側に与しようとしている連中。まったくとんでもない奴らだよ。見えないところでコソコソ動き回り、ゴキブリみたいに増えやがる。こいつらをまずはなんとかせねば」

　ダンスが終わると女たちの姿は引っ込み、代わりに楽団が現れた。ピアニストが席について南米風の楽しげな曲を演奏しはじめると、セルゲイは席を立った。

「聴いていかないのかね？」

「音楽は嫌いなんです」とセルゲイは言った。「大嫌いです」

　秘密警察は色々な働きをする。盗聴器を用意してターゲットの言動を探る。発言力のある相手が捜査対象なら、その失言を探してイメージを崩す。

同時に、情報提供をする人間を作り、それを増やしていく。密告者の組織は国にとって安全な予防線を張ることにつながるからだ。

セルゲイは手段として盗聴器を好んだ。

彼はホテルの個室には盗聴器は仕掛けない。そんな密室よりも、対象の生活域を探り、そこの公共施設で待つ方が確率が高い。食堂で、図書館で、あるいはプールで。人々は思わぬ所で相手を信じて本音を漏らす。長年の仕事でセルゲイはそれを熟知していた。セルゲイは見えないところで動き回り、情報を集め、対象者をリストアップしていった。

「わたしが取り調べにはいることは可能ですか？」

　リストナンバー５５４番を見た時、セルゲイは上官にそう申し出た。

「もちろん」と上官は笑った。「君はあれが嫌いなのだと思っていたよ」

　音楽教師は痩せていた。そのせいで目が大きく見え、実際以上に諦めと疲れが浮かんでいた。彼はやって来たセルゲイを見ると一瞬ぱっと顔を輝かせたが、じきに警戒するような表情に戻った。

　すでに収容されていたような顔つきだな、とセルゲイは思いながら、彼の向かいに座った。

「初めまして」とセルゲイは言った。「取り調べは……三回目？長いね。大変だ。ああ、君は立ち上がらなくてもいい。握手も必要ないよ。形式は好きじゃないんだ」

　話しながらセルゲイは自分の感情を抑える。必要以上にゆっくりと話す。音楽教師の名前を確かめ、妻と子どもの名前を確認する。

「妻エレナ、子どもの名前はアナトリーだね。ふうん、奥さんはＮ市出身？奇遇だね。わたしもＮ出身だよ……あそこの運河は美しいだろう？あの運河は小麦の輸送所であり、のちに発電所ができた。君は駅前の水車のモニュメントは見ただろう？あれが街のシンボルなんだよ。子どもは皆学校で見学にいく。そして歌を教えられるんだ」

　おどけた調子でセルゲイは「わが町よ　わが河よ」と名付けられた歌をくちずさむ。

「知っています、知っています！」と音楽教師は言う。「妻から教えられました。わたしは教えられたメロディーはまず忘れないんです。いや、忘れらないというか……特技みたいなものですね」

　音楽教師の顔に希望らしきものが生まれるのをセルゲイは見逃さない。彼はもっとセルゲイと話したそうに、さらに何か呟くが、セルゲイはそれを無視して部屋の隅にいる部下たちの所に戻る。

「とりあえずあいつの右手……そう、中指と人差し指を折れ」

「え？質問の前にですか？」

「勘違いするな。あいつがスパイかどうかを確認するのではない。目的はあいつの隠していることを吐かせることだよ」

　部下はそれに従った。セルゲイが音楽教師の正面に戻った頃には、彼の指は机の上で奇妙な方向にねじ曲がっていた。彼は痛みをこらえながらセルゲイに顔を向ける。これは何かの間違いだと訴えるように。

　セルゲイは口元を結び、肩をすくめる。そして音楽教師を見下ろす。

「パウル・ヴィトゲンシュタインは左手のピアニストだ」とセルゲイは言った。「君も問題はないさ。ここでわたしの質問に答えたら左手までは奪われない……かもしれない」

　子どもは父の誕生日に自分で作曲した音楽を届けた。

　一分ちょっとの短いピアノ曲で、楽譜の上には父親が応援していたホッケー選手の名前が冠せられている。そのタイトル、メロディ、全部が子どもを偽装した暗号かもしれない、とセルゲイは言う。それを聞くと上官は苦笑いする。

　セルゲイも笑う。

「まあ、いずれ分かりますよ」

　執務室の中でセルゲイは短い夢を見た。エレナがピアノを弾き、セルゲイはその傍でおとなしく彼女のピアノを聴いている。そのメロディーは単純なものだが日の光のように明るく、美しい。

　聴き始めたと思うとすぐに曲は終わってしまい、セルゲイは物足りない。

「天使みたいな曲だ」と彼は言う。「僕が欲しかったものだ」

　ドアのノックの音でセルゲイは目を覚ました。兵卒が二人入って来て、セルゲイに何かささやくと、鞄から瓶を取り出し、それをセルゲイに渡した。

　再び執務室で一人になると、セルゲイはその瓶を手にとって眺めた。

それはジャムの瓶ほどの大きさで、表にはラベルが貼ってある。ラベルの項目には手書きの文字で、名前・年齢・採集場所が書いてある。これらは対象者の匂いのサンプルだった。軍用犬に嗅がせることで、どこに逃げても居場所は探索できる。

　瓶の中にはセルゲイの指示通りハンカチが２枚入っている。セルゲイはその中の一枚を取り出して、そっと自分の鼻に当てる。まさか彼女の使っている香水がそのまま変わっていないはずはないのだが、懐かしいエレナの匂いは記憶そのままだった。

　長い年月、彼は想像してきた。エレナが考えを改めてもう一度自分のもとに戻って来ることを。気がつけばすでに２０年以上も経過していた。そしてその香りを嗅ぎながら、すべてを白紙に戻してやり直すには、あまりにも自分達が遠い場所まで離れてしまったことを、今更ながら認識した。

　セルゲイは身体中から力が抜けるような気がした。この気持ちを誰かに伝えたかった。この持てあまし気味な感情をいま誰かに受け止めて欲しかったが、そんな相手は彼の人生にはとうとう登場してくれなかった。

　若い時の彼ならきっとこの瞬間、人生が垣間見せてくれた横顔を言葉に切り取って詩にしただろう。しかし彼がしたことは引き出しから報告書を取り出したことだった。

　管理局第二十課５　１１月２３日　Ｃ１／３４５５６

　国家敵対的・否定的市民への作業のための作戦実施工作計画

　グリート・フェルド　二十五年五月七日生　コードネーム【ブラームス】

　右の者は自らの国家に対する敵対的姿勢を持ち、わが国の発展にとって本質的に離反する思想を持つ。

　計画の設定に関しては刑法一〇〇、一〇六条違反の疑いによって実施される。　

　その全部で五枚のレポートのうち彼は最後の一枚を取り上げて読み直した。

【ブラームス】の家庭内に揉め事を起こすこと。同士ヘッセン・並びにその妻ヘレナを介して、【ブラームス】の家族付き合いの中から、妻【クララ】が特定の男性と寝て金を要求するというような事実を招来することは可能か？【クララ】から否定的市民を情報提供させた上、新たなその事実を【ブラームス】に伝えること。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　責任者　第二十課課長　同士セルゲイ・Ｋ中佐

　セルゲイはその最後のレポートを机の脇に置き、【クララ】に関する箇所をすべて削除したものをタイプライターで打ち直した。それから

【ブラームス】に関しては現在国家敵対行為の徴候はいささかも確認されなかった。作戦実施は一時中断する。と最終末尾に付け加えた。

　そのとき街の丘の上の教会が鐘を鳴らした。ちょうど正午だった　

セルゲイは報告書を封に入れると、どさりと椅子の上に身体を預けた。

　封筒を手にしてセルゲイは執務室を出た。

　上官との面会の時間も迫っていた。すでに通りで待機していた車に乗りこんだとき、

彼は相変わらず苦い顔を浮かべながら、座席に持たれて考えごとをしていた。

　それで運転手がいつもとは違う道を走っていることにも気付かなかった。あまつさえ、ニキビのあるあの運転手の男が一度車を停めたいと言い出したとき、そのことを疑いもせずに許可した。ドアを開けたまま出ていったことにも不審に思わなかった。

　運転手の男がセルゲイを残して車を出ると、突然歩道から現れた三人組の男が、改造手榴弾を車内に向けて投げ込んだ。一つは不発で、残りの二つはセルゲイの車を、屋根ごと破壊し、車体を激しく損傷させた。すでにそのときセルゲイには意識がなかったが、残りの一人が短機関銃でうつ伏せに倒れていたセルゲイの頭を撃った。

　あっけない終わりだった。

　セルゲイの死は新聞に載った。

When Sergei was young, he thought of himself as a poet. One day, he suddenly had a premonition of a poem, which could be called inspiration, along with a trembling heart. The sensation eventually landed on a specific word, and the world was framed by Sergei's words.

However, Sergei's poems were never published. Although they were published in the literary magazines of the university, they never actually published a collection of poems. Living alone with his mother, he could not make enough money to have a local publisher print his poems. With a state scholarship, it was a miracle that he could even go to university, and the hope of publishing a bound collection of poems and having them sold in bookstores was a misplaced hope.

At university, he joined the drama club. While he worked on scripts and directing there, Sergei could not give up on poetry and continued to write. He would sometimes add his own poems to the scripts, but his reputation was neither good nor bad.

When Elena joined the drama club, her presence made everyone a little uneasy. Certainly, she had beautiful features, and depending on how you look at her, her profile reminded people of a popular actress at the time. However, what everyone was more interested in was the contrast between her complete lack of interest in romance and her inability to make jokes or light-hearted remarks.

Even though she was still in her teens, Elena always wore long beige skirts. It seemed a little outdated even at the time. She also didn't understand the music of her generation. She didn't know any of the popular songs that everyone knew, and surprisingly, all she liked to listen to was Bach.

The reputation of the club was that if she dressed better and applied makeup well, someone would fall in love with her, but it was Sergei who fell in love with Elena, even without her consciously showing off those skills.

After two years, Sergei and Elena had become a couple.

As soon as the time for military service approached, and Sergei received his conscription notice, they mourned their separation like any other couple. They kissed in the darkness of the city and told each other that they loved each other. Like his predecessors, Sergei would have liked to take his lover to his room and possess her body before the breakup, but Elena, being the earnest one, was determined to keep that line. In the end, Sergei, being a gentleman, had no choice but to give in.

In return, Elena promised to write him a letter every day. She also promised that she would think of Sergei every night before going to sleep, and that she would always wait for the day they could live together. Sergei had to convince himself with those words.

In September, when the hint of winter began to mix in the air, Sergei and the other young men all put on their issued military uniforms, had their heads shaved, and were assigned to various regions.

Sergei was given the job of guarding the border for two years.

On the border was a vast expanse of bare land. It was said that in the past, a foreign tribe would attack from the northern desert, but that story was over a thousand years ago, and now all that remained in the valley was a white-painted iron fence with barbed wire blowing in the wind.

That was the border. Occasionally, the sounds of target practice could be heard on the wind from the other side of the fence. At such times, Sergei and the other guards would raise their heads and turn in that direction, like silent animals.

There were ruins in the area where they were stationed. While on guard duty on the grassy hill, they could see the remains of churches and houses, many of which were still half buried underground and had not yet been excavated. When it snowed and the entire hill was covered in white, a single reddish-brown tuff rock stood out in one place, and it was the dome of a church built in about the 7th century AD.

Although he had been warned to be careful of snakes, Sergei would visit the ruins several times in the spring during his free time between training and patrols, and gaze at the mural of an angel painted on the wall of the collapsed dome. The angel's face somehow reminded Elena, so he wrote her about it in a letter. It was a poetic and sentimental letter, but he thought that his feelings would reach her too. Elena's replies were not as frequent as Sergei's, which he found unsatisfying, but Sergei continued to send her letters whenever he had time.

After two long years, when Sergei returned from military service, Elena told him that she had something to talk about again. Thinking that it must be a marriage consultation, Sergei dressed up and headed to a restaurant. However, it was a marriage, but Elena was marrying another man.

"I never heard of such a relationship between our parents," Sergei said.

"I don't have any obligation to tell you about that," Elena said, looking confused. That was something that had changed in the past two years.

"And he's a foreigner, too. That's crazy! Do you know what you're doing?"

"Don't do that," Elena said. "You're not the type to say things like that."

"You're the one who's changed," Sergei said.

The conversation had just started in the middle of the meal, but Sergei got up, paid for himself and her, and ran out of the restaurant.

One day the world changes.

At the time, Sergei had been offered a job at a shipbuilding company through his uncle, but as soon as he got home he called his uncle and turned it down. The next day he was already in the process of joining the army.

"You're making the right choice," his superior officer said when he enlisted. "After all, it's safest to return to your motherland. What other right way of life is there?"

Initially, Sergei wanted to be a border patrolman. He just wanted to get out of the city.

However, the department to which Sergei was assigned was the intelligence unit in the capital.

The military was in a situation where it was necessary to respond to new developments. If not immediately, the military authorities believed that if the tensions with the neighboring country to the west continued, something would happen eventually. What was needed at that time was a well-trained, practical young intelligence officer. By chance, Sergei's superior officer at the time of enlistment was connected to the intelligence unit.

Sergei had only intended to serve in the military for a few years, but this superior officer discovered his talent. Sergei's features were quite ordinary, which was a good thing in this case. He didn't stand out, and he wasn't easily remembered. In addition, Sergei was good with words, which was rare for someone in the military.

One day, the superior officer gave Sergei a special task. It was monotonous and unreasonable, and to those who didn't know anything about it, it looked like Sergei had made a big mistake and was being punished for it.

It was an unofficial test. Sergei completed the job for three months without complaining. In reality, Sergei was just thinking about Elena and despairing about his life, but to his superiors, Sergei's work looked like strong self-control and loyalty to the military.

One day, the superior called Sergei into his office and said, "You will be reassigned from next week."

Before he knew it, Sergei had been working as an intelligence officer for fourteen years. It was only when people around him pointed out that next year would be his fifteenth year as an intelligence officer that he finally realized it.

To the outsider's eyes, he was steadily climbing the ranks in the military. He already had many subordinates, and Sergei, who was in his twenties when he joined the army, had become quite dignified in his forties.

During that long period, there were many skirmishes with the neighboring country to the west, and with each death, the possibility of war gradually became more and more real. In contrast to the excited voices calling for war rising within the country, supplies were beginning to run short. Eggs bought yesterday cost twice as much today. Items began to disappear from the shelves, and substitutes and soldiers began to dominate.

Nowadays, only the rich and military were allowed to drive large vehicles in the city.

A military vehicle stopped on the corner of the street. The driver, a young man with a red, swollen pimple on his chin, briskly got out of the driver's seat and opened the car door. Soon, Sergei got out with difficulty. His superior officer got out next, and the two of them went down the stairs to the basement. The dull blue door opened and the owner appeared. For a moment, light filtered in from inside the store, reflecting the men's shadows on the ground, but the door quickly closed.

As soon as they sat down on the maroon sofa, the dance began on the stage. After a series of greetings and orders, the officer sat back on the sofa and waited for Sergei and him to be alone.

Then the officer said,

"There will be a big war soon. Of course, we must defend the border."

"I guess so," Sergei said.

"Oh, aren't you worried?"

"Yes, I am," Sergei said.

"Yes... our land, our culture, will be taken over by those guys. Those barbarians. You must have a family, too. Yes, your wife... she must be related to the M family..."

"Yes, yes," Sergei replied with a wry smile. When talking about Sergei's wife, everyone mentioned her family background. It was certainly a family that could be considered upper class, but the truth was that there was nothing else to praise about her.

"What do you need?" Sergei asked.

This restaurant had also changed without anyone noticing. It used to be a social gathering place for the best people, but the women were tired and their makeup was sloppy. Still, they danced on stage because it was their job. When the song ended, the officer next to them applauded while holding a cigarette in his mouth. The women smiled happily. It seemed like they were all performing the same act.

"What can I do?" Sergei asked again, as there was no reply.

"There are spies among the civilians now. They are trying to help the other side under the guise of unofficial collaborators. They are really terrible people. They sneak around unseen and multiply like cockroaches. We have to do something about them first."

After the dance, the women left, and instead a band appeared. The pianist sat down and began to play a joyous South American piece, and Sergei stood up.

"Aren't you going to listen?"

"I don't like music," Sergei said. "I hate it."

The secret police do many things. They prepare wiretaps to investigate the behavior of their targets. If the person under investigation has influence, they look for slip-ups to destroy their image.

At the same time, they create and increase the number of people who can provide information. This is because an organization of informants is a safe line of defense for the country.

Sergei preferred wiretaps as a method.

He didn't install wiretaps in private hotel rooms. Rather than in closed rooms, it was more likely to find the target's living space and wait in public facilities there. In the dining room, library, or swimming pool. People trust others and reveal their true feelings in unexpected places. Sergei knew this well from his many years of work. Sergei moved around unseen, gathered information, and made a list of targets.

"Can I be involved in the interrogation?"

When he saw list number 554, Sergei asked his superior.

"Of course," the superior laughed. "I thought you hated that."

The music teacher was thin. This made his eyes look larger, and he looked more resigned and tired than he actually was. When he saw Sergei approaching, his face brightened for a moment, but his wary expression soon returned.

He looked like he'd already been detained, Sergei thought, as he sat down opposite him.

"Nice to meet you," Sergei said. "This is your third interrogation? It's long. It's difficult. Oh, you don't have to stand up. There's no need to shake hands. I don't like formalities."

As he spoke, Sergei tried to control his emotions. He spoke more slowly than necessary. He confirmed the music teacher's name, and then the names of his wife and child.

"Your wife, Elena, and your child's name is Anatoly. Hmm, your wife is from N city? What a coincidence. I'm from N too... isn't that canal beautiful? That canal was a wheat transport station, and later a power station was built. Have you seen the waterwheel monument in front of the station? It's the symbol of the city. All the children go on field trips at school. And they are taught to sing it."

Sergei hums a song called "My Town, My River" in a playful tone.

"I know it, I know it!" says the music teacher. "My wife taught me that. I never forget the melodies I'm taught. Well, I wouldn't say I forget them... it's like a special skill."

Sergei doesn't miss the glimpse of hope on the music teacher's face. He mutters something more, as if he wants to talk to Sergei more, but Sergei ignores him and returns to his subordinates in the corner of the room.

"First of all, break his right hand... yes, his middle finger and index finger."

"What? Before you ask him questions?"

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to find out if he's a spy. I'm trying to get him to tell me what he's hiding."

The subordinate obeyed. By the time Sergei returned to face the music teacher, his fingers were twisted in a strange direction on the desk. He turned to face Sergei, enduring the pain. As if to say that there was some mistake.

Sergei pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. Then he looked down at the music teacher.

"Paul Wittgenstein is a left-handed pianist," Sergei said. "You'll be fine too. If you answer my questions here, I won't take your left hand away... maybe."

The child delivered a piece of music he composed for his father's birthday.

It was a short piano piece of just over a minute, and the name of the hockey player his father supported was written on the sheet music. Sergei says that the title, the melody, everything might be a code to disguise the child. Hearing this, the superior officer laughs wryly.

Sergei laughs too.

"Well, you'll find out eventually."

In his study, Sergei had a short dream. Elena was playing the piano, and Sergei was quietly listening to her. The melody was simple, but bright and beautiful like sunlight.

Sergei started to listen to it, but the song ended as soon as he started, leaving him unsatisfied.

"It's an angelic tune," he says. "It's just what I wanted."

A knock on the door woke Sergei up. Two soldiers came in, whispered something to Sergei, and took a jar out of their bag and handed it to him.

Once alone in his study again, Sergei picked up the jar and looked at it.

It was about the size of a jam jar, and had a label on the front. The label had the name, age, and collection location written in handwriting. These were samples of the subject's scent. By having military dogs sniff them, their location could be tracked no matter where they ran off to.

As instructed by Sergei, there were two handkerchiefs in the bottle. Sergei took one out and gently placed it against his nose. There was no way that the perfume she was using hadn't changed, but the familiar scent of Elena was just as he remembered it.

For many years, he had imagined that Elena would change her mind and come back to him. Before he knew it, more than twenty years had passed. And as he smelled that scent, he realized that they had come too far apart to start over with a blank slate.

Sergei felt all the strength leave his body. He wanted to tell someone how he felt. He wanted someone to accept these feelings that he was feeling a bit overwhelmed, but that person never appeared in his life.

In his younger days, he would have surely written a poem about the profile that life had given him at this moment, cutting it into words. But what he did was take out a report from a drawer.

Administrative Bureau, 20th Division 5, November 23, C1/34556

Plan for the implementation of an operation on citizens hostile to the state and negative towards it

Greet Feld, born May 7, 1925, code name [Brahms]

The above individual has an antagonistic attitude towards his own state and holds ideas that are fundamentally alien to the development of our country.

The plan is being implemented on suspicion of violation of Articles 100 and 106 of the Criminal Code.

He picked up the last of the five pages of the report and reread it.

To cause trouble within the Brahms family. Is it possible to use Comrade Hesse and his wife Helena to bring about the fact that Brahms' wife Clara is sleeping with a certain man and asking for money from his family? Get Clara to provide information on negative citizens, and then convey this new fact to Brahms.

Person in charge: Section chief of the 20th section: Lieutenant Colonel Comrade Sergei K.

Sergei put the final report next to his desk and retyped it with all the parts related to Clara deleted. Then he added the following at the end:

As for Brahms, no signs of national hostility have been confirmed at this time. The operation will be temporarily suspended.

At that moment, the church on the hill above the city rang its bells. It was exactly noon.

Sergei put the report in an envelope and leaned back in his chair.

With the envelope in his hand, Sergei left his office.

The time for his meeting with his superior officer was approaching. When he got into the car that was already waiting for him on the street,

he was leaning back in his seat, deep in thought, with a bitter look on his face as usual.

He didn't even notice that the driver was driving on a different route than usual. What's more, when the acne-stricken driver asked to stop the car once, he allowed it without question. He didn't even suspect that he had left the door open when he left.

When the driver got out of the car, leaving Sergei behind, three men suddenly appeared on the sidewalk and threw modified grenades into the car. One failed to explode, but the other two destroyed Sergei's car, including its roof, and severely damaged the body. Sergei was already unconscious by that time, but one of the remaining men shot him in the head with a submachine gun as he lay face down.

It was an untimely end.

Sergei's death was reported in the newspaper.